The Avenger's Comic Store Initiative
by Doom Defiler of Logic
Summary: Avenger's AU where the group own a comic book store. However, Loki wants a cafe.
1. Chapter 1

**Sorry for any spelling mistakes, I just wrote this in half an hour.**

**The Avenger's own a comic book store in this AU.**

"But why, brother!" Yelled Thor across the cramped confines of their comic book-store causing the few customers their store had managed to accumulate that day to flee in terror of the large sales clerk. Tony shook his head; it was a wonder this store managed to make a profit as long as it did, was it really a surprise they were facing eviction.

"People like coffee, Thor. People also like books. It's not my fault your store failed to make ends meet." Said Loki, the smug smile crawling on the edge of his lips.

Tony had to agree with him, Loki had actually helped gain a few sales on the few occasions he'd come to talk to his brother. Really, the only two here who were qualified to run a store were Natasha and himself. And he was always too busy trying to upgrade the cameras to be useful at management.

"You have betrayed me, brother," Thor growled, flexing his arms and barrelling his chest underneath the tight black singlet he always wore to work. "You have betrayed the Asgards. Ever since you were banished from our household-"

Loki sighed, "For the last time, Thor, I wasn't banished. I went to college. I actually learnt something, like how to manage a business. Which is what I will be doing here as soon as you're evicted."

Thor went quiet, jaw and fists clenched tightly shut. Tony just rolled his eyes and turned to Loki. "How long have we got?"

"Two weeks, according to your landlord." Tony had never really liked Loki, he'd always just wanted to wipe the smirk off his face whenever he saw him. "You have a little bit of time for a last sale or something like that."

"It won't be our last sale."Said Tony, smiling.

"Oh, you intend to set up shop somewhere else?" Asked Loki, patronising bemusement dancing across his face. Raising his walking stick, he slid the top layer of comics off the shelf and watched them twirl to the floor. "I'm sure someone will love these... pictures somewhere else."

"Maybe in a few years. A second store would be nice and all."

Loki's smile fell just a little, his smug façade becoming just a little hollow. "What?"

"We're not going to lose this store." Explained Tony, as he re-stacked the comics on the floor. "No, I think we should be able to hold onto it," he glanced over at Thor, who still seemed to be fighting the urge to beat his brother into pulp. "As long as someone stops making impromptu Shakespeare performances."

Loki started to chuckle, his gaze jumping from Tony's serious expression and his brother's clueless one. "You've been evicted."

"That happens a lot."

"You won't win, Loki." Thor said, as he unclenched his fists.

"Do you think you can change Fury's mind?" He asked, mockingly. "What do you intend to do?"

"Paying off our debts sounds like a good start." Exclaimed Tony.

Loki smile dropped, "I have lawyers."

"We have a Hulk." Hopefully Loki didn't realise that was Bruce's nickname. Threats didn't sound nearly as threatening when they involved small asthmatics kids, even if they were dangerous.

Loki snickered. "Threats won't work on me."

"They should. Clint's a mean shot." Even if he did have an unfortunate name.

"And I have Mjolnir!" Roared Thor, as he walked towards the counter.

"You still have that woodwork project?" Loki asked in disbelief.

"You better believe he does." Said Tony.

Thor reached down below the counter pulling out the rather impressive weapon. "Would you wish to feel it's swing, brother?"

Loki sized the two of them for a moment, his twitching hand playing with his long, green scarf, the only indicator of his fear. After a moment, he replied. "Fine. I hope you're next weeks are very productive, that money will have to last you through your unemployment after all." The villain turned, his scarf sweeping majestically behind him. "Say hello to Natasha for me."

He left the door with a slam, the door smashing into it's frame behind him. It was only then Tony let go of his breathe. "Jesus Christ, your brother's a piece of work."

Thor placed his hammer back underneath the shop, "You have no idea, Midgardian."

"Is anyone else in your family like that, Thor?"

"No. He's actually adopted."


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh, crap. More fic was written. I don't like this. **

**I don't own any characters.**

**Anyway, this is the one where you find out that I can't write, sorry about that... I was going to call it "Plot holes, plots holes everywhere" but I justed edited it and really couldn't find any so... enjoy?**

Natasha carefully cut through the stream of customers wandering into the store, a pile of comics in her arms obscuring her vision tremendously. Mindful of the general placements of the comic stands, she waded through the closed confines of the store, only barely managing to avoid tripping over a customer before arriving at the counter. She dumped the comics in a neat pile behind the desk and stretched to get rid of a small kink in her back.

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" Asked Steve, who was standing awkwardly by the manga section. A couple of teenage girl's kept sneaking glances at him from across the room but he didn't notice. It was probably a good thing to. He'd just look even more awkward.

"No thanks, Steve." Said Natasha, leaning back against the wall. "You already do enough as it is. You keep that up and we might shave to start paying you. We can't really afford that right now."

Steve chuckled, "I don't need money. The station pays me quite well at the moment."

"You work all week and then come to our store and then you want to work more? For free?" Natasha asked half-mockingly. "There's definitely something wrong with you."

"I just want to help you guys out."

Natasha smiled, "Tony's not here at the moment."

Steve's eyebrows rose. "I don't just come here for Tony." He exclaimed, a patch of red skin creeping up his cheeks. "No more than Clint just comes here for you."

"Clint doesn't actually like comics." She said, as she lowered herself to get the duster from under the counter. She'd noticed that the stand Steve was standing by seemed to be coated with dust and she wasn't going to let that get away unnoticed. Why she let the guys get away with it she'd never know.

"I do like comics." Steve stammered, trying to remember a few superheroes off the top of his head. "Spiderman, Batman... um... uh... Catwoman … um... Captain America..."

Natasha gave him a deadpan stare. "That's not a real superhero."

"Oh..." Said Steve, the blush creeping further. "Well, he should be."

Before Natasha could actually get rid of the dust she heard the SLAM of the door screaming shut. She spun around and saw Bruce half crouched, hands clamped to his knees, looking like he'd just run a marathon, his breathing shallow and haggard. "Oh, crap." She exclaimed, as she ran over and helped her friend to his feet. "Steve, his inhaler's beside the register."

"Right," Quick as a flash, Steve flew to the counter, grabbed the inhaler and leapt forward to his friend. He quickly placed the inhaler in Bruce's hands, and helped his friend bring it to his lips. As he took a few deep breathes from the contraption, Natasha patted his back, unsure if it was actually helping at all but needing to do something.

He took one last breathe, this one sounding much stronger, before he took the inhaler away. He let out a raspy, "Thanks, guys," before falling silent for a while.

"Do you need a ambulance?" Steve asked sounding worried. His police training had clearly kicked in, he needed to keep the situation under control.

"No, thanks." He said, his voice sounding full again. "I'll be good."

Natasha backed away slowly keeping close enough to catch him if he fell. But Bruce seemed to be doing pretty well on his own, if looking a little shaky. "You feeling ok, Bruce?"

"Just a little raspy."

"That's good." She said, before punching him quite hard in the arm.

"Ow!" He exclaimed, followed by a brief series of very rough coughs that almost made Natasha go easier on him.

Almost.

"What the hell were you thinking?" She exclaimed, trying to find a good medium between yelling and silent rage. "Where's your inhaler?"

"I had to get here... As fast as I could..." He lent himself on the counter before continuing. "Tony rang and told me about Loki..."

"You ran here for that? Without your inhaler?" Asked Steve, trying to be a lot warmer than Natasha. "That's no reason to risk your life."

"This store is my life." He explained, "I need it if I want to pay my way through college. Barely make it by at the moment."

"Because this is the only store on the planet." Natasha said. She looked over at the customers and noticed their gazes on them for a moment before they all suddenly snapped back to the respective comics as soon as they noticed her. She scowled.

Bruce laughed at that, a nice warm laugh followed by some hacking coughs. Eventually, he said "No, but I've been here since High School. I was the first person Tony hired, for God's sake." He was quiet for a moment, "It's been good to me."

"We won't lose the store. I've seen better eviction attempts."

"She's right, Bruce." Said Steve, looking every part the police officer. "And even if she wasn't, it wouldn't be something to lose your life over."

He looked up at Steve and, with a sad smile, said "You're probably right."

The door swung open, in the process almost knocking out a customer trying to leave. It was followed immediately by Tony bursting into the store holding a wad of papers in one hand and his phone in the other. "Guys, I have bad news!"

Natasha rubbed her forehead. "We're about to be sued because of what we do to our customers?" She asked as Tony helped the young man to his feet.

"What?" He asked, a little perplexed, "He's not going to sue us, are you, kid?"

Looking a little nervous, the kid answered, "Um... no..."

Tony beamed back at Natasha, "See, Tash, the kid's fine." He ruffled the boys hair, and hit him gently on the back sending him out the door. "He's cool." Tony took one look at Bruce and made a strange, skewered facial expression. "You don't look too good?"

"Don't feel too good, either." Said Bruce, as he attempted to straighten himself up.

"That's good, I wouldn't want to have to break the news." He said across to Tash. "Ok, guys, Loki wasn't just making shit up. We are bei-" His gaze fell over to Steve who had gone rather quiet since Tony had arrived. "You don't work here."

"No, I'm just your best friend," Explained Steve, "wanting to check up on you after what I heard."

"What'd you hear?"

"That you were being evicted from your store." He explained, hands shoved into his pants pockets, looking halfway between worry and irritation.

"So, we're all on the same page then?" Tony asked expectantly to them.

"Yes..." Said Bruce.

Natasha nodded.

"Oh good." He exclaimed, "I couldn't remember if I'd called you all or not. Last night's quite a blur." He looked mildly confused as he scratched the back of his head. "Well, I'll just skip to the punch. We are being evicted in two weeks."

"We all just told you we knew that." Natasha explained with a frustrated sigh.

"Yes, but we only had a younger brother's word on that, and you can't trust them." He explained in a manner that suggested that the knowledge was obvious.

"I'm a younger brother." Said Steve, suddenly losing the worry on his face.

Tony was silent for a moment, as if he were mulling that over in his mind. "Yeah." He said eventually. "But you're pretty."

Natasha wanted to slam her head down on the table. While she loved Tony, there was only so much you could take from him before you wanted to jam him into a blender. In fact, that was a problem with most of the guys she worked with. Thor was extremely arrogant and kept acting like he was at a renaissance fair. Bruce was nice and quiet but was... too nice and quiet. And Steve was, well... actually she wished Steve worked there, it'd make the weekdays much more bearable.

At least she'd get to go home to see Clint tonight. It was always nice when they just had the night to themselves.

"So, is that all you wanted to tell us?" She asked, as politely as possible.

"Um... no." Tony marched off to the back of the door, "Could all employees please follow me, please!" He yelled through the cone he'd turned the papers into.

"Who's going to watch the store?" She asked.

"Steve, would you mind?" Tony yelled back, pushing aside two customers.

"He doesn't work here." Bruce pointed out, running after his boss.

"Which is why he can't come with us." Explained Tony before entering into the back room. His voice drifted back around into the store loud enough for everyone to hear. "It's like I'm the only one thinking here, or something."

Contemplating using the heaviest omnibus she could find as a club, Natasha mouthed "sorry" to Steve before following after Tony. She just knew this wasn't going to be fun.


	3. Chapter 3

Their back room wasn't much, just a small collection of buckets, mops and boxes of stock that hadn't sold, all cluttered around a drab, grey room. They were suppose to go in a '50% off Sale' box out in the front of the store, but no one had ever really gotten round to it. Besides, they made excellent seats for the table.

Natasha had to squeeze herself by the table, pushed up against one wall beneath an X-men poster, and sit herself down next to Bruce, sharing a lounge sized collection of Justice League Comics. Tony was busy fiddling with his papers on the other side of the extremely grimy table, coated in a thick layer of dust. Natasha was seething, this was exactly the kind of thing that happens when you leave Tony and Thor in charge of cleaning.

"Has he said anything else?" She asked Bruce, who was still looking a little worn out. He clutched his puffer tightly between his fingers and never took his gaze from Tony.

"Not really. He just pulled out a bunch of wires from under the table." He said.

"Wires for what?"

"The projector." Tony declared, lifting the chunky store laptop, about ten years commercially outdated (it was updated through a combination of Tony's and Bruce's questionable computer skills) and hooking up a sequence of wires into small, poorly connected ports on it's side.

"We have a projector?" Asked Bruce, making Natasha feel a little bit more comfortable. She'd been working here for five years now and she'd never known they'd one, least of all one in the back room. Bruce had been working here since the store's beginning. If he hadn't known they had a projector, she supposed it was acceptable for her not to have noticed. "Since when?"

"Since last night, I salvaged it out of the computer store's bin." He explained as he scrambled onto the table.

"You stole it?" Natasha asked. She didn't know how she could still be dating Clint when so much of her life seemed to be revolved around stealing, even after her rehab.

"Bits of it," Tony grunted as he opened the air vent directly above the table and pulled a behemoth of a machine, which was connected to the air vent by a long pole, down. It looked like it'd been stuck together from a television, a turn table and a DVD player. Natasha couldn't see anything that looked like it'd come from a projector. _Dear God_,_ he's probably destroyed the ventilation system, _she thought.

"You installed all of this last night?"

"Um," He said, hooking a long blue cable into the machine. "Yeah."

Natasha really wanted that omnibus with her. Instead of actually trying to figure out a way to boost sales, Tony had been working on some useless invention after giving his co-workers a brief call. She looked to Bruce to see if he agreed with her, but he mostly just seemed confused.

"Why do you need a projector anyway?"

Tony hooked up the last few wires into various parts of the machine. "Battle plans," He declared, immediately hitting a button on the laptop.

The machine whirred to life, the turntable on it's side spinning for seemingly no adequate reason. After a moment, a light began to flicker inside and soon the wall behind Tony was illuminated into a large power point presentation, entitled "How we beat Loki!"

Natasha slammed her head down against the table. "You're an idiot." She mumbled into the plastic.

"What'd she say?" Tony asked Bruce.

"You're an idiot." He relayed, wanting to repeat Natasha's gesture.

"That's a bit harsh."

Still muffled by the table, Natasha said, just loud enough for Tony to hear, "Please get on with it."

Tony beamed, "That I can do." He hit another button on the keyboard and stood back while the slide changed to a shot of their lease. "Ok, as Bruce can see, and Natasha... can't, our contract with Fury allows us two weeks to pay a bill if we can't do it by the end of quarterly. Just enough time to let us pay before we're evicted, right?"

"Sure..." Said Bruce, uncertain of whether that was a test or not, Tony had a way of needlessly complicating things. "But Fury's normally quite nice about that. He's given us longer time before."

"Exactly." He said, pointing to Bruce, "And Loki obviously knows that, he wouldn't just turn up out of the blue and say we were being evicted unless he was almost positive we were. Now, I've checked with Fury and he says it's just about the bills, even though we've been paying on time for the last few years, but-"

Natasha felt the phone in her pocket vibrating. Sliding it out of jeans, she sat up straight and looked at the text message:

Steve: _Has Tony been drinking?_

Natasha frowned, unsure of why Steve would be asking that. "Um, Tony?"

"Yes," He said, happy that Natasha was starting to see the necessity of explaining Loki's coffee habits.

"Have you been drinking?" She asked uncertainly.

He frowned at that, he didn't think Steve would have told anyone about that. "Um, yeah, why?"

"No reason." She said, hesitant to let Tony know Steve was asking. She wasn't sure what was going on but she felt it wasn't really something Tony was meant to know.

"Ok, well back to this. Now, Loki tends to like lattes on Tuesdays and they're generally from-"

Natasha: _He says he has, why?_

She finished typed the text quickly, hoping Tony wouldn't lecture her on why she shouldn't be using an Apple product again, before sliding the phone back into her pocket. She looked up at the wall to see a candid picture of Thor, smiling awkwardly towards the camera as if he didn't know what is was going to do. Knowing what Tony often made, he probably didn't.

"Ok, now, here's where Thor comes in."

Bruce raised his hand nervously, looking like a shy kid in school who'd just noticed a problem with the teaching's answer.

"Yes, what is it?"

"Um, where is Thor. If it's a company meeting, surely he should be here."

"I already asked him to come in today." Explained Tony, sounding a little tired, "But apparently he has some sort of religious holiday, something I couldn't pronounce. Apparently it's a time for family or something." He sounded a little disgusted by the idea. "He said he'd try to convince their father to talk Loki out of it."

"That's another point." Said Natasha, leaning back on the cold wall, "If we're being evicted by Fury, what has Loki got to do with it."

Tony crossed his arms and sat down on the table's edge. "This sort of thing has happened before, lots of times actually, when I first opened the shop, especially. Fury was always cool with it, he'd only threaten to evict us if we went way over those two weeks. They were mostly just there for show." He paused for a moment, looking mildly sad, something Natasha had almost never seen on him. "When I talked to him, he didn't actually say it, but I could kind of read between the lines. Loki's offering him a better deal. Bigger rent, more payments, something like that. I think he knows we couldn't afford to lease this place like that."

"So, you think Loki's turning him against us?" Asked Bruce, also looking a little hurt, "Are you sure about that."

"Loki wouldn't brag unless he was sure he was going to win and the timing... it's just too..." Tony drifted off for a moment, "But, I'm hacking his email to make sure." He explained, holding the strange contraption that used to be an android phone to them. "That should probably tell us more."

"Now that's very illegal." Natasha exclaimed, drumming a beat onto the table.

"Well, I won't tell the police if you won't."

The door to the back room burst open, the silhouette of a very large, absolutely livid, officer standing in the door frame. "God damn it, Tony!" He exclaimed, angrily.

"Ok, who told?" Tony asked his co-workers, looking not in the least bit scared of the extremely well muscled man standing before them.

"Three years. Three years!" Steve yelled, stepping into the already overcrowded room. "At least you had a reason then but now... Why did you throw it all away?"

"Please, Steve, the kids don't want to see Mummy and Daddy fighting." Tony said smirking.

If Natasha had known Steve was going to react this badly she wouldn't have sent that message. She'd probably also have closed up the shop too, it would have made the customers less nervous about large men yelling in the store. "What's going on?"

Tony tried to say, "nothing" but it was drowned out by Steve's shout of, "Haven't you told them?"

"It never came up." Tony said, trying to defend himself.

"God damn it!" Steve roared, turning violently on the spot, "And after everything Natasha went through and you never even told her?"

Natasha was about to ask what they were talking about, and so was Bruce by the looks of things, even if he had sunk into the box a little, but she churned it over in her mind. Tony had been drinking. He could have helped her but with what?

Then it hit her ... _Dear God. _"You're an alcoholic?" She asked, almost silently.

They all stopped at that.

They were quiet, it was actually really strange for him. Whenever Tony or Thor were in the room, someone was always talking, often loudly, usually flirting. It was actually a little unnerving.

Finally, Steve replied. "Yes. Yes he is."

"Three years sober." Said Tony cheerily. He threw a quick glance at Bruce and Natasha that screamed, "Don't tell him otherwise."

"What about last night?" Steve asked, angrily.

Tony glared at Natasha and Bruce, "Ok, who told him?"

"It doesn't matter who told me! What matters is that you've relapsed."

Tony tried to dismiss it, clicking a few keys on the laptop and flashing through a couple of slides. "It was one night."

"It was one night three years ago." Said Steve, sounding more disappointed than angry, "And then it was two. And then was it three. And then it was months."

That actually explained quite a lot about that year. Tony had barely turned up for work them, and Bruce and Natasha were starting to get worried. The one time they asked him what was up, he hired Thor and told them that he wouldn't be in much. No matter how much they pestered him about it, he wouldn't tell them. Natasha was sure he was dying, and she worried about him, a lot, over that year.

But then, one day, he'd shown up at work and seemed fine. He started working a _lot_ of shifts and, even though Thor had been hired as a replacement for him, he didn't fire anyone. It all seemed to just fall back in place. Natasha supposed a relapse made a great deal of sense, she knew how dangerous those could be.

"Yeah, well, I won't let that happen this time." Tony explained, shutting the laptop lid, the light from the projector flickering out on the wall behind him. "I can't let that happen this time."

Steve sighed, possibly the saddest sigh Natasha had ever heard. "I'd like to believe that, Tony. I really would." And with that, he turned and readied himself to leave. "If you feel the need to drink tonight, Tony," He gave Tony one last glance, "Please call." He left the room without a second glance.

Tony looked down and mumbled under his breath. She couldn't really make it out, but Natasha was sure he said, "I will."

"So, guys." He said, "I suppose I didn't get a chance to explain anything, really."

"We could watch the power point?" Bruce asked, trying to be polite.

"No, there wouldn't be much point to that." Said Tony. "Guys, I'd better go follow him. He's really pissed at me."

"No shit."

"Yeah, well, Tash, I do kind of deserve it. But, I think we both know who has the real reason to be angry, right?" And with that, Tony left the room, his phone straight to his ear and hurrying out through the shop.

"Well," Said Bruce awkwardly. "I don't really think that helped at all?"

"No," She said, her mind a million miles away. "I don't think it did." She wound her way out of the tiny room and into the slightly less cramped shop feeling uncertain of what to do.

"Do you think we can stop ourselves getting evicted?" Bruce asked, as he moved to stand beside her.

"I don't know... I just hope Thor can convince Loki to stop." And with that, she hurried over to the register to make sure nothing had been stolen, a saddened Bruce accidentally finding himself working a shift.

**Ok, there are a tonne of reasons I didn't like that, so if you could please review and let me know your thoughts I can try and make it better. Or, take the knowledge of my mistakes onto my next project.**

**I kind of have an idea in my head for 20 of these chapters, maybe more, maybe less, but around that. I should publish one a day so, I hope you like some of them at least.**

**Anyway, I'll understand if you don't like this one, but next chapter will involve an Asgardian Family Dinner. It's going to be a bit weird... But I like writing for Thor and Loki, so expect lots more of them. :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**I haven't bothered editing this one, I'm not feeling particularly up to it. Besides, I have an essay to write and I'm already behind the schedule I set for this. Try to enjoy it though.**

**And please review.**

Despite the Feast of Valhalla being prepared at his home as he trained, Thor was reluctant to return, not when Loki would be there. That was somewhat of a new emotion for him, especially when the Feast usually involved the greatest Norse chefs in the area coming to the home of whoever hosted the night long event. His old friends, family he didn't usually get to see, women; Thor loved the Feast more than anything and always looked forward to it.

But, he couldn't stand seeing Loki. Not now.

So he continued beating the punching bag as hard as he could, until even he began to grow tired from the exertion. His body glistened with sweat, his arms shook and his breathing sounded haggard. Thor had never managed to feel like that before, not even with his wrestling matches with Steve. He'd never pushed himself that far, he'd never needed to, and it worried him, far more than he liked to admit.

But he didn't dwell on it for long. After a quick shower in the men's locker room, he brought a Gatorade, drained the whole bottle in two minutes, and walked to his car, a large Jeep which he had borrowed from his father. He couldn't really afford to drive on his salary, but his father always kept his car's fueled up.

And Thor always managed to sneak them out without anyone knowing. It was a good thing too. Thor may have had a license, but considering how he drove his parents would never knowingly let him drive them. And Loki would never let him-

Bad subject.

He wanted to put it off, maybe go and see Tony about working tonight. He said he had a religious holiday but he could probably get out of it. Tony didn't really care what you did as long as you came in for shifts.

But no, he couldn't. He'd promised Tony he'd talk to Loki about this. To his father as well. Loki would respect his father's decision surely.

He'd just have to convince his father...

Thor grimaced internally at the thought. If Loki had already discussed this with father than there was very little Thor would be able to do to get him on his side. He was extremely stubborn.

Arriving home at quarter past five, he quickly parked the car, dropped the keys into the intricately carved bowl, showing the Battle of Ragnarok, and hurried to his room to change his clothes. His house was divided three sections each connected to the others by large walkways. Although the guest section, located next to the garage, was usually used for quests, and contained an extremely large lounge room and four bedrooms as a result, his father had demanded that the Feast be hosted in his section.

Surprised he didn't meet any of the guests, he could always ready hear the commotion the gathering was making from his father's section, Thor hurried off towards the heir's section, reserved for himself and Loki. It was the furthest away from his father's wing, something Loki had often mused over with Thor when they were children, and was remarkably undamaged considering who lived there. As a teenager, Thor had almost burnt it down after attempting to replicate an experiment from High School. Loki had only just managed to put the fires out before their father had arrived.

And not to mention the time Loki tried to raise a horse there, Sleipnir he called it, he raised it from a fowl. He actually grew to become quite a good steed, so good that Odin had him shipped off to race for him. He actually won quite a few races, apparently, which became awkward when Loki found out. He'd told Loki, after much pestering, what he thought happened to Sleipnir. The fact was, Thor believed his father had sent it off to a dog food factory, something which caused Loki more than a few sleepless nights. He'd actually crawled into his brother's bed a couple of times that month, just needing to know his brother was there. Loki really loved that horse and it had pained him to see his brother so sad.

Loki always was the sensitive one as a child which slowly turned to snark as his brother grew older. But Thor always saw something good in his brother, always saw their friendship keeping them close. And while his brother was by no means evil, Thor fault wounded by his actions. Everything he'd ever done for him and Loki was just going to turn against him, taking away one of the few things he loved doing. Even if he wasn't particularly good at it.

Dressed up in blue jeans and a tight black shirt, Thor left his room, walking in an uncomfortable silence through the long halls of his home. The music and merriment of the feast could be heard off in his father's walls but it seemed far off, somehow divorced from the present. He supposed Loki felt something similar to this when he lost Sleipnir, not that that was really the sort of thought he wanted at the moment.

"Son!" Yelled a deep voice from up ahead, "I was starting to get worried."

Thor looked up from his thoughts to see his father, dressed almost regally in an expensively cut, crisp, black suit. "Father!" Thor yelled, forgetting for one moment his brother's actions, overjoyed to see his father home again. He broke into jog, and almost barreled the man over with his hug.

"Easy there, my son," Odin chuckled, as he patted him on the back, his beard brushing against Thor's neck. "Age is starting to take it's toll, I'm afraid."

"Forgive me, father." Thor let go of Odin and took two steps back. "It's just been so long since we last spoke."

"It would have been sooner," Odin said sternly, "If you had arrived on time, son."

Thor felt mildly upset, caught between trying to avoid his father's gaze and meeting it bravely. "I was merely training at the gym, I did not mean to offend you with my absce..."

Odin began to laugh, a hearty laugh possessed only by the few who cared little for the opinion's of others.

"What is funny, fat-"

"That was a joke, Thor."

"Oh," Said Thor, breaking drifting awkward silence.

Odin let out one more booming laugh, clapped Thor by the shoulders and led him back into the hall, "Lighten up, Thor. Ragnarok is years off and I was just about to tell the tale of how I lost my eye." Odin's eye-patch glistened vaguely as it was washed in the light of the Feasting Hall. "You may have the seat of honour beside me, if you wish."

Thor scanned the tumultuous crowd looking for any sign of his brother in the crowds. Although he spotted numerous faces he recognised, none of them were Loki's. "Maybe soon, father." He had to raise his voice to be heard above the bustling crowd as they let loose voices howling with humour, mead and the occasional orgasm. "But right now, I need to speak to my brother."

"Of course," Odin stepped aside and gestured to the kitchen. "He's down there, making ready his plant-based foods. Sad to say that I will not be joining him in that meal." He said with a warm smile.

"Loki doesn't wish to hurt animals if he doesn't have to." Thor tried to explain as he had with Odin dozens of times.

"I respect his decision whatever his reasoning." Odin turned to leave and detained himself for one moment. "As long as I am not forced to agree with him." Odin returned to the cascading rows of applause to hear his story, bottles of beer thrown raised high to the air, along with chicken wings, steaks, and occasionally food on forks.

Thor had to suppress a chuckle at that. Hopefully he'd be able to sort out this whole business with Loki early, get him to call off his attack of the store. He still wanted to enjoy this feast, and to have some worry clawing away at the back of his mind would not help him in that task.

He headed off at once, making idle chat with a few of his old friends as they passed by, promising that they'd talk more when they met back at the table.

The first thing one noticed as they entered the kitchens was how different they were to the main hall. Whereas the main hall was quite warmly lit, the light bulbs produced a nice, orange glow which always made Thor feel at ease, the kitchens were much more starkly lit, all white and shiny, almost sterile. No wooden floors, no warm paneling, just a hospital-like interior, only slightly remedied by the aromas coming wafting from them.

Thor found Loki standing bent over a frying pan, blazer and scarf gone, sleeves of his white shirt rolled up his arms, his green tie dangling down beneath him. He breathed in the fragrance of his stir fry and then began to stir once more.

"You look like you're from Slytherin, brother." Thor said, watching with some amusement as his brother leapt away from his dish, spun on the spot and held a spoon out to him, in a manner which suggested he was trying to be threatening.

Seeing who it was, Loki relaxed, shoulders slumping as he leant back on the bench. "Jesus Christ, Thor. You gave me a fright."

"You'd use the name of the Christian God in our house?" Thor asked, astounded.

Loki glared at him, "It's an expression, Thor. I haven't turned convert."

"Well, just don't let father hear you. He would not be pleased."

"No," Said Loki, turning back towards his stir fry. "I don't suppose he would."

An awkward silence followed, as Loki continued to stir his dish and Thor just stood there, not knowing what he was hoping for.

"So, Harry Potter, huh?" Said Loki, breaking the silence.

"What?" Thor asked, unsure for the moment, what Loki was speaking about.

"You said I looked like a Slytherin," He laughed as he pulled a large bowl from the cupboard. "I didn't know you read." Loki looked up at Thor expectantly as he placed the bowl on the bench.

After a moment, Thor shrugged and said, "I saw the movies with Bruce." He watched Loki pour the contents of the frying pan into the bowl before continuing. "I didn't understand why he cried so much while watching it."

"No," Loki through the pan into the sinking, "You wouldn't."

"Loki-"

"Nope, I don't want to hear this." Said Loki, with great authority. He grabbed his bowl off the table and went to leave the kitchen.

Thor blocked him. "We need to discuss this."

"No, Thor, we don't." Loki responded, trying to move past the bulk of his brother. "This is the Feast of Valhalla. It would be disrespectful to-"

"Loki," Thor said gently, "I need you to not do this."

Loki sighed, and put his dinner down. "Why? Tell me that, why?"

"It's my job."

"At present. And it will be my job in the future when it's a cafe / bookstore."

Thor shook his head, "And what will I do then?"

"Well," Explained Loki, taking a few steps back from his brother, "You could easily get a job at father's company. You are going to inherent it one day, you should probably know how it works."

Thor stared at Loki, "Is that what this is?" He asked.

"Why do you care so much about this?" Loki asked, looking a little angry, "You only took the job because father threatened to cut off your allowance."

"It's more than that now?"

"Is it, brother?" Said Loki, defensively. "That must be so nice for you?"

He picked up his bowl and went to get out of the kitchen, but Thor pushed him back in. "Brother, if this is about father, then we discuss it with him. Together. He loves you, your his -"

"I'm not, you know." Loki spat, looking ready to strike his brother, "I'm adopted, did you forget that?"

To Thor, this was worse the anger and the feeling of betrayal. "Brother-"

"Again, adopted. Try to remember that!"

"Now you go too far, brother!" Growled Thor.

"No, I'm pretty sure I went too far when I approached Fury with the proposal." The sly smile appeared on his lips but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Loki looked down. "It can't be stopped."

"It can, brother." Said Thor, feeling like there was a way out of this, the anger and hurt washing away. He approached his brother, ready to embrace him. Loki seemed to reciprocate, stepping closer towards him. "It can, if we do it together-"

Loki shoved himself under Thor's arm, and walked out of the kitchens. "I'm tired of your sentiment, _brother_." He threw back at Thor, before heading off towards the feast.

Thor stood there and watched his brother retreat down into the Feasting Hall. Throughout their life, he and Loki could always count on each other, always trust each with secrets. He'd never known Loki to lie to him before, let alone manipulate him. Was this a new? Was he going through something painful? But there was the another possibility, one deep inside Thor which was causing him so much pain.

Had Loki always been doing this? Had he always been manipulating him. If that was true then he was going to have to change his approach if he wanted to save the shop. But right now, he just wanted to stay there, to let the world pass by him.

But there was still one last thing he could try. Maybe, just maybe, Loki would be convinced by their mother.


	5. I might start giving chapters titles

"Loki wants to close down your store?" Asked Clint in disbelief as he handed Natasha her mug of hot chocolate. He fell down onto the couch beside her without spilling any of the liquid from his own mug. "Loki?"

"Yep." Natasha said, feeling extremely tense and looking straight ahead. She sat cross-legged on the couch, her knees and elbows pointing sharply outwards, the sort of body language that made Clint want to shuffle away a little bit in case of attack. "That he does." Natasha took a sip from her drinking, never once deviating her stare.

Clint looked profoundly confused, "Why? What does he gain from it?"

Natasha's head turned sharply to look at him. "A coffee shop, apparently."

"A café?" Clint took a deep slurp from his mug, "He wants to close you guys down for a café?"

"It would seem that way, yes."

"That's just..." Clint stood up and threw out his arms, "Bizzare! It makes no sense."

Natasha had to concede to that, no matter how much she wanted to believe otherwise. "I'm sure he has some twisted notion of reason involved."

"But why you guys?" Asked Clint, "It's not like you're the only place in town that can be used for a café. Plus, your store's tiny. Surely he'd once something a bit... bigger."

"Believe me, I've been asking myself what he's been planning since I found out." She said, impassively.

Clint walked over to the couch and sat down beside her. "You think he's up to something?"

"Maybe," Natasha said, her mind racing to all sorts of conclusions. She was only vaguely aware of Clint, an image out of the corner of her eye, his voice could very well have been part of her thought patterns. "It just doesn't seem to make sense for him to do something like this."

"Do you think that, whatever it is he's up to, might be illegal?" Clint asked, looking a little hopeful. "Because if it is Steve and I would be glad to investigate."

"He wants to make a café slash bookstore. I can hardly see how that would be illegal." She said, muttering to herself.

"Well, we can't rule anything out." Clint explained. "He may be making the bread out of human bones." Natasha snapped out of her trance to glare at him for that. "Like a giant."

Her mouth was open for a moment before she answered. "I don't think so..." She said, feeling a little uncomfortable. She was fairly certain that Clint's desire to arrest Loki wasn't simply to do with the store. Loki just seemed to give off some sort of vibe that very few people liked. With the exception of Thor and herself, no one she knew seemed to get along with Loki, occasionally leading to fistfights which Natasha always seemed to have to break up. Thor seemed to think he was teaching his brother a lesson by staying out of the way, a family dynamic which might have explained a few things.

Of course, the hatred of Loki wish Clint and Tony shared was the only form of this. Bruce just seemed to find him annoying, as did Steve although he was too polite to ever say anything. Pepper was just extremely sarcastic towards him but she was like that towards everyone, if a little warmer than Tony.

Actually, Natasha missed Pepper. Maybe she should call at some point, see if she wanted to go and get coffee. "That might be a solution."

Clint looked around the room, "What might?"

"Why don't I just talk to him?" Natasha explained, letting out a little laugh. She got to her feet and dashed to the kitchen, her black phone sticking out like a sore thumb on the white wooden bench.

"I thought you said Thor was going to talk to him?" Clint asked.

"Yes," Said Natasha as she begun to compose a text, "But there are somethings you can only tell a friend. And some secrets only coffee will reveal."

Frowning, Clint said. "Maybe that's why he wants to make the café. Maybe he wants something revealed?"

"Maybe." Said Natasha as she finished her text. "I guess I'll find out soon enough."

Dropping the pot of curry onto the table, Loki sat down next to his mother and let out a sigh of relief. He'd he'd gotten away without another confrontation with his brother, even after retrieving his blazer from the coat stand. Although antagonizing Thor was helpful, and angry Thor was a reckless Thor.

"Hello, mother." He said, giving her a rather awkward hug over the top of the arm rests of their seats.

"Well, you've certainly taken your time." She said, teasing.

"Well, curries do take a little while to make and I did just run home from work." He gestured towards the disheveled state of his hair, little bits sticking up from the slicked back whole. He pulled the pot of curry towards him and dumped a small dollop onto his plate. "Would you care for some, mother?"

"No thank you, Loki." She said, smiling warmly.

"Are you sure?" He asked, taking a small bite off his fork. "Because it is delicious."

"Maybe later then." She said, although her expression suggested she would politely decline then as well. Normally that look would concern Loki, he was always trying to get his family to expand their world view, but not tonight. Tonight, everything was going according to plan and for that, he could allow most anything to pass.

"Sure thing." He poured himself a glass of champagne and watched the bubbles fizz and hiss as he churned the small golden ocean within.

Bursts of laughter from behind his mother reminded Loki of his purpose. His father, bottle of rum in hand, shouted boisterous stories of his many conquests during the war, met with roars of approval and occasional bouts of laughter as he furthered his recount. "He came at me, gun in one hand, pipe in the other!" He yelled, gesturing at an invisible enemy standing roughly where the roast hog was placed. "And he was no amateur, if it had not been for the timely detonation of a bomb on a neighboring building I would have been a dead man. You see, he flinched, it would usually be nothing, it barely changed his course. But it was just enough to throw off his aim, and when he met me in meelee combat," he chuckled, "well, I managed to wrestle away his gun. Before he could steal the weapon back, I..."

Loki zoned out, Odin's stories of the war could be entertaining, especially for the younger generation, but when you've heard them again and again they seemed to lose impact. Or maybe he'd just matured, something his fellow Norsemen seemed unable, or unwilling, to do. But that was ok. Thanos was going to help them all with that.

He saw Thor marching towards him, the weight of the world riding on his shoulders. Despite the confrontation back at the kitchens and his direction of travel, Thor barely gave Loki one tortured glance before striding past him to take his seat by his father. That glance, however, told Loki every think was going perfectly.

As Thor sat down beside Odin, he began to eagerly shout and chant along with the rest of Odin's court. Loki stared at him, extremely amused by Thor's amateur attempt to hide his real emotions. The change in his expression was too fast, too sudden, to be natural. He actually had to suppress a snicker while watching it.

Getting caught up in his thoughts and observations, Loki almost leapt out of his skin when he felt his jacket pocket vibrate. His mother, perhaps due to the sudden jolt rocking the table, looked at Loki worryingly. "It's fine." He mimed with a smile, as he pulled his phone from his pocket. He waited until his mother looked away before checking it, a text from Thanos here would have been difficult to explain. Suppressing the groan rising up within him, he just knew it was going to be about the phone's battery, he turned the screen on. To his immense surprise, and delight, it was from Natasha.

Natasha: Loki, are you available soon?

For the first time in an extremely long while, Loki found himself genuinely smiling for a reason that didn't involve someone's humiliation. Making sure to face the screen away from any prying eyes, he replied.

"So, that's that." She said, as the two of them fell synchronized onto the couch. "I've done all I can do for tonight."

"Yeah, you'll have to wait until he replies to your text."

"And, he and Thor are at some religious event." Natasha said, a small smirk reached the corner of her lips.

Clint looked at her and returned the expression. "Yes and most of those tend to frown upon the use of modern sorcery, like phones."

"So, really... I shouldn't get a reply for quite a while."

"Nope. I think it seems like a great time to relax." A moment's silence.

"So, what did you want to do?" Clint asked flirtatiously. Natasha noticed that he'd undone the first 3 buttons of his shirt, allowing her to see his chest quite clearly from her position.

"I was going to watch TV," she said, reaching across to the table to grab the remote. "The new _How I Met Your Mother _is on tonight."

"I didn't think you liked that show?" Clint asked.

Natasha mocked offense, "After all this time and you don't even know my favourite show?"

"I'm fairly certain you hated it?"

"No," Natasha said, pulling the labels of Clint's jacket towards her, "I just said I don't like Barney. He hasn't got a big part in this episode."

Clint looked at her with a confused expression, "We can't be talking about the same show here."

Natasha laughed and brought her hand up to the back of Clint's head, "Shut up." She said, watching her boyfriend grin like a maniac. She pulled Clint into a tight embrace, felt his lips underneath her own. They tasted, as usual and for no logical reason, like strawberries.

As she began to unbutton his shirt, she felt a vibration in her pants leg pocket. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me." She said, her arms still wrapped around Clint.

Panting slightly, Clint said. "You could always just ignore it."

She sighed as she let go of him, "No, I don't think I can." She pulled the phone out and quickly checked, with some hope, that it was just some advertisement for a better phone plan.

Loki: I'm free tomorrow. Does that work out for you?

Natasha gave her boyfriend a sympathetic look. "I think we might have to wait for that."

Clint pouted. "But I want sex now."

That made Natasha giggle. "Later."

"Fine." Clint said, "I guess we'll have to watch _How I Met Your Mother."_

"Dammit, Loki." She said playfully, as she prepared her message.

Immediately after replying to Natasha, Loki noticed that his father was no longer giving any tired old recounts of his glory days. He looked across to see that the rest of his family had moved, Thor, Odin and his mother had all disappeared.

He slipped his phone back into his blazer and scanned the hall for any sign of his family. He hadn't thought he'd been that happy to get Natasha's text, but if his entire family had managed to slip away he might have to re-evaluate his use of phones.

But even so, it was irresponsible for the host party to leave the table while the Feast was ongoing. Bathroom breaks and the like were fine, but not all at the same time. And since Loki no longer lived there, he was not an acceptable substitute for the members of the household. As he scanned the crowd, he noticed a few of the guests eyeing him suspiciously, as if he had done something to them.

It actually made Loki nervous. His plan could cope with change, but he'd prefer to avoid it, an emergency now could cause real damage he might not even notice until it was too late. And the only time the host party could leave during the Feast, all at once, was if there were an emergency.

Eventually, he found them, although he had to completely turn himself around on his chair to spot them. The three of them were at the back of the hall, talking amongst themselves, trying to stay out of the crowd's line of sight by hiding by a pillar, although not particularly well. Loki couldn't tell what they were talking about, but the glances they kept throwing back at him seemed telling. He wasn't certain if this new development could help him or not.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Said a voice to his right, who's sudden appearance caused Loki to jump slightly, he was starting to think he got lost in his thoughts far too easily. He turned to see who his conversant would be and found Sif standing beside him wearing a black jacket and jeans. She didn't look down to see Loki, she just kept staring ahead, looking at Thor with concern.

Perhaps that suggested the rumours were true. "No idea, but it has to be important." He said, as she copied her gaze.

"It's not right for the host family to leave like this." Sif said, looking anxiously backwards. "It's against tradition."

"Well, the gods aren't likely to smite us all down where we stand," Said Loki, as he corrected his seating position. "I'm more worried about whatever would cause them to leave like that."

"It'd have to be something important." Said Sif.

"Yeah," Said Loki, more prepared for the vibration in his pocket this time. He hopped out of his seat, turned to Sif and muttered, "Excuse me," before heading away from the table. He probably should have still been seated there, as poor a substitute he was, someone should always be sitting at the head, even if the host family were occupied. But he couldn't bring himself to care, so he retreated to the other wall of the hall, and looked at the text.

Natasha: Yeah, that sounds good. I was thinking we

should go and get coffee. At Olympus?

Loki smiled, glad of his friend's interest in him. He decided there that he wasn't going to let Natasha fall into unemployment like the rest of the idiots at that store. He'd definitely have to offer her a job, she was sophisticated enough to understand the appeal of his café. He texted her back.

"I think this show has gone downhill since the last I saw it." Said Clint, who was splaying himself over their entire couch.

Natasha had seated herself on one of the recliners which orbited the lounge room. "Actually, I think Barney seems to be a lot less irritating now." Clint gave her a shocked stare. "What?" She asked, before feeling her phone go off.

Loki: Of course, that sounds exceptional. Do you have a time you'd prefer?

"Well," Said Natasha, "I think your long wait may soon be over." She said to Clint with a great deal of mockery.

"Well, that's good. I was starting to worry."

As he looked up from his text, Loki noticed something additionally discerning. Odin and Thor were walking towards him. "Uh." He exclaimed, debating whether or not he should try and run. _No, that'd just give you away, _he thought. _Better to try and fix the problem on the fly._

With that in mind, Loki walked towards his brother and Odin, a look of deep concern on his face. "Father, what's happening? Has someone been struck ill?"

Thor and Odin exchanged a glance before looking back at him. "Is it true?" Odin asked Loki, who'd not prepared himself for such that question so early.

"Is what true?"

"Don't play games, brother!" Thor growled. "I've told father exactly what you plan to do?"

Dawning realisation stuck Loki, but he thought it appropriate to play dumb. "Is this about the vegan desert?" Loki asked the two of them, "Because it actually is quite ni-"

Odin interrupted, "Loki, Thor's told me about what you plan to do to his store?"

"What I plan to do to his store? What are you..." Loki's mouth opened into a little 'o', "You mean what I intend to do when the store closes?"

Noticing that his mother had returned to the table, Loki barely observed the threatening glare that passed between Odin and Thor. "When the store closes?" Odin asked, "Thor told me you were trying to close down his store."

Loki rolled his eyes, "Of course he did." Loki gave Thor a look of absolute contempt. "Isn't that something our brave, heroic Thor would say."

"What are you talking about, brother!"

Loki turned to Odin, "I'm guessing he only told you the story which cast him in the best light, father?" Looking at Thor out of the corner of his eye, Loki asked Odin, "Did he leave out the part where he threatened me in the kitchens? Where he threatened to kill me if I didn't try and help him keep the store open?"

"I did no such thing!" Thor yelled to Odin, the few guests who'd been following the match suddenly multiplying to a large host by his call. "He's lying, father!"

Odin silenced him with a raised hand, "Loki, I'd like you to explain everything."

Loki gave Thor one last angry look before turning to Odin. "Father, I am not attempting to close down his store. I've merely engaged in an agreement with the landowner. Due to the failure of Tony Stark-"

"Don't you dare speak ill of him!" Thor yelled.

Loki ignored him, "To pay his debts when they are due, Mr Fury will be evicting them from the premises. I am merely-"

Thor clenched his teeth and swung a fist at his brother, "Don't try to twist this, brother!"

Loki staggered back, falling to the ground in the process. "You see, father!" He yelled, pointing up towards his brother, very mindful of the vast crowd watching the engagement from the sidelines. "Do you see how he tries to make me into the villain! My own brother, blames me for his own faults, and those of his friends! And then, when someone comes close to understand the truth, he attempts to threaten me to silence."

Thor marched to Loki, the angriest expression Loki had ever seen on his face. "Brother! If I had Mjolnir here you would not dare to speak such-"

"Enough!" Odin intercepted Thor to prevent him from getting to Loki, however, Thor would not stop, physically tying to push right past his father. Much louder this time, Odin roared "ENOUGH," before throwing Thor to the ground. From his vantage point on the floor, Loki could see that Thor's entire attention was on his father, disbelief and, yes, a little pain crowding his features. Odin marched over to Loki and offered up his hand, which Loki greedily took as he staggered to his feet. "I'm sorry, Loki. Please feel free to do as you wish." He said, before turning back to Thor.

"Get up!" He ordered as Thor struggled to his feet. Before Thor could speak, Odin interrupted him. "Not another word, Thor!" He stomped off towards the corridor leading to his own room, "Follow me!"

Thor looked back at Loki with an expression that suggested that they shouldn't be alone together for quite some while or bad things would result. He then dashed off after his father, fearful of the consequences his refusal to follow would bring.

Loki limped back to the table suppressing a smile. That had gone much better than expected. Thor was in trouble and Odin seemed to be on his side. All and all, things might be looking up.

"Are you ok, Loki?" His mother asked when she noticed his limp.

"I'm fine, mother." Said Loki, putting on a brave face, "I'm must have just bruised my ankle when I fell."

"I'm so sorry, Loki." Her mother said. She pured Loki a cup of champagne, "Thor told Odin and I that you were planning to get rid of his store, I didn't realise how violent he was going to get over it."

Loki gave a slight little smile and told her what he'd told Odin. He made sure not to embellish it with too many details, varying the tale too much might alert Odin to his ploy, but by the end his mother looked extremely guilty.

"I'm so, so sorry, Loki." She said, "I just thought... I wanted to make things right between you and Thor."

"It's ok, mother. Thor has a habit of embellishing stories to make himself the hero." Explained Loki, looking at the table. A slight crack entered his voice when he tried to continue, "He... He thinks himself an infallible god who can do no wrong. He simply cannot accept he might be at fault, or, in this case, that a friend could be. Although, I do suspect that Mr Stark was feeding him some propaganda campaign against me."

"Really?" Asked his mother, a look of angry defiance in her eyes, "Maybe I should have a talk with him."

"Only if you think it's for the best." Loki said, raising his hands as if to caution her. "He is beyond reason, he completely and utterly hates me. I've never understood why."

His mother smirked, "No, I believe I will have a talk to him, see if I can't get him to tell Thor the truth. Or, if that doesn't work, we can keep him from going back to that store." She turned to Loki, a hint of sadness on her features, "We can't let that poison come into our family."

"No, mother." Said Loki as he felt the vibration of his phone against his breast. "We can't."

Natasha: How about 1pm. Would that work for you?

Loki: That works fine. I'll shall see you then.

**Dear Cas, this one took forever. In between all the rewrites and my computer deciding to delete the finished chapter last time well... I'm surprised this is even done.**

**The original chapter was going to focus on Steve and Tony as well, but I think I'll make that the next chapter. I am so glad it's done, I can't emphasise that enough.**

**As always, please review and hopefully the next chapter will be up sooner (it should be, it's length will be closer to the first chapter than this).**


	6. This Chapter Was Meant to be Shorter

When the two brothers had been alone they had often discussed their father. Although they both loved him, he was usually described as being "exceedingly strict" by Loki and, somewhat less creatively as, "not fun" by Thor. While this was a little bit of an exaggeration on Thor's part, Loki had probably hit the nail right on the head, a saying Thor found enjoyed. The truth was, although Odin was definitely strict he was also an incredibly fun dad, he'd have wrestling matches with Thor and play chess against Loki. As long as the brothers went by his rules, traditional though they might be, they could expect to have an enjoyable time with their father.

It was with this in mind that Thor found himself seated in the dark, depths of his father's study. Odin had gone back to placate the attendees of the feast, reassuring them that he would be rejoining them soon. Thor could see his father in his mind's eye; a warm smile lighting up his face, his booming yet calm voice soothing the audience, looking almost regal in that perfectly tailored suit of his.

It would only be his eye, his icy cold, blue eye, that would tip people off that he had not calmed down. His mother would be able to tell, as would Loki, and Thor prayed to all the gods that his brother would feel a stab of guilt deep down when he saw that eye. However, if any of the guests saw it, they'd think of it as a trick of the light, after all, there was no other eye to back up their observation and, else wise, he seemed quite calm. To all in attendance, Odin would have resumed his cheerful demeanor, his anger spent. After one last chat with his son, they'd both come back and all would be right again.

Thor knew he'd be very lucky to get off that easily, his father's instructions had been very clear. He'd almost thrown Thor into the seat, his shove was so rough. "What do you think you're playing at, boy?"

"Father," Thor began, pushing himself up from the sofa, "I'm telling you the truth."

"I don't care for your truth!" Yelled Odin, as he fumbled for the light-switch. The whole room was soaked in blinding orange light, forcing Thor's eyes closed. Odin seemed unperturbed. "Real or imagined, this is now the issue!"

Thor squinted through the torrential light to see the blurring outline of his father. "I don't understand..."

"Of course you do, Thor." Odin walked towards his desk and rummaged through his draws for something. "What did you do to Loki?"

"Father, he-"

"Enough!" Odin roared, as he turned back round to his son, "No excuses! Answer me, what did _you_ do to Loki tonight?"

Dropping his head, Thor looked towards his jeans, fearing his father's gaze. He mumbled, "I went to strike him..." He swung his head back up, needing to make his father understand, "But he was trying to besmirch my honour!"

"According to you!" Odin said, his voice calm and controlled, his eye displaying all of his cold anger. "It's your word against his, and he's not the one trying to beat you to a pulp."

"Let him try!" Thor growled, standing to his feet, "I'll break his bones!"

"Enough!" Roared Odin, "I will not have my two sons at each other's throats because of some petty dispute with a comic book store!"

"Petty?" Thor asked, clenching his fists, "My friends and I will lose our jobs if he succeeds?"

"Is that what you want from life, then?" Odin asked, as he turned back to his desk, pulling from the draws a small glass and a bottle of whiskey. "Do you want to be working some casual position the rest of your life?"

That gave Thor pause. "No, but... Me and my friends need this... That's not the point, Loki can't just close down our store-"

"Which he is not doing," Odin reminded him. "He's taking over your store after you've been evicted. Thor, Loki's actually making something with his life, while you continue to mess around. For Asgard's sake, you're twenty six and you're still working casual!"

"How I live my life is no concern of yours, father! The fact remains that-"

"No concern?" Odin roared, slamming the glass of whiskey down onto his desk. "I'm not to concern myself with the life of my own son?" He slowly turned around, giving Thor the angriest glare he'd ever seen. When he spoke, his voice was eerily quiet, but it dripped with a dark, menacing quality. "I'm not to concern myself with the heir of my own empire? The heir who spends his entire life either working out or selling comic books? Is that what you're trying to tell me, Thor?"

"Father, it's my life-"

"Which would be a fine statement if you haven't said, a number of times, that you want to follow in my footsteps." Odin growled, "In fact, I distinctly remember my threat of disinheriting you was the only reason you took that job to begin with."

"Yes, and I'm doing something now, like you told me too..."

"You're no Loki, don't try to change my mind about this. You never were to good at thinking on your feet." Odin grabbed the small glass of whiskey and brought it too his lips. The two of them stood in silence, both searching for what they needed to say to convince the other. Odin spoke first. "The way you were acting, I felt for sure that you'd gotten that Physicist pregnant. But instead it was much worse."

Odin let our a sigh and took a quick sip of his whiskey. Thor had never seen his father so quiet, the anger had gone from his eye too, replaced with … something else. A hollowness, like he was searching for something far away. "I was never close to my brothers. We were always to busy fighting amongst each other, fighting for our father's attention. For his love..." His gaze dropped to the floor. "For his inheritance." He sighed before continuing, "Always bad blood there, especially with those who thought they were more deserving of my place." He looked up again, "But I did what I had to. Or so I thought."

Thor began to walk to his father, prepared to take his father in a hug, but his father's attitude returned to normal, anger flashing once more in his eye. Thor stopped immediately where he was. "Please, continue, father."

"There's no need." Said Odin, "You don't need to know of my mistakes. I just never wanted them to be repeated between you and Loki." He took another sip and sat down on his desk, gesturing for Thor to sit back down. "I always worried about your brother. Worried that you two would be worse than my brothers were. That, when you found out he was adopted, you'd alienate him. Or he'd alienate you.

"But that didn't happen. When we first told you that he was adopted, you didn't make any jokes or look at him differently. You looked at us as if we'd just asked you to murder him. You insisted that we were lying to you, that we were trying to break you two apart. You screamed your accusations at us and locked yourself in your room, refusing to come out for anything. Not even for dinner, and your appetite was legendary." Odin chuckled, his eye had gone misty.

"Of course, Loki ended up worried. You know how he is. He kept crying on your mother's shoulder, would barely move. We thought it was because of what we told him, but it's wasn't. It was because he thought you didn't love him anymore. And as soon as he confessed to that, your mother stomped up to your room and demanded you come down. That you were scaring your little brother." Thor felt a small tear well up in the corner of his eye which he quickly brushed away. He didn't remember this, but he knew how it was going to end.

"Immediately, you opened the door, looking so guilty, liked you'd just hurt somebody. And, without saying a word to us, you went down stairs, found your brother and gave him the tightest hug. We actually had to pull you off him to stop him from suffocating." Odin chuckled softly under his breath. "You told him, 'I am your brother, no matter who your mummy and daddy are.'" His father let out a loud wet sniff before continuing. "Seeing that, seeing that beautiful bond you have with your brother, I realised what I'd been missing. What I never had with my own brothers."

His expression suddenly became serious, that happiness was still there, just below the surface, the anger only a parent could have for their child was right on top of it. "Right there, right then, I declared that no matter what happened, I was never going to let anything come between you and him. You were too close for me to allow that." The smallest smile crept to the corners of Odin's lips, "And I won't, Thor."

"Father, this is not my doing." Said Thor, quietly.

"I don't care." Said Odin. "I could say I'm angry at you for a lot of reasons; for interrupting the feast, for being lazy, for so many things. But, the truth is, I don't want to see something come between you and your brother.

"Now, I want you to walk out of here, with me, and you're going to apologize to your brother for trying to attack him."

"But, fathe-"

"I don't want to hear it! You don't need to do it front of everyone, you just need to say it. And _mean_ it!"

Thor gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on the chair's armrests. "Father, I can't. This isn't just about our family," Odin rolled his eyes, "It's about my friends too-"

"Thor!" Odin roared, slamming his fist down onto his desk. "Your friend's are irrelevant! This is only about family!"

"And my honour!" He yelled at his father as he leapt to his feet. Looking as though he was going to attack him, Thor leapt to his feet and stomped towards his father, facing him down. There they stood, two wolves less than a foot apart, each waiting for the advantage. No longer the innocent wrestling matches of Thor's youth, the two could do each other a lot of damage. Thor may have been stronger and faster than his father, but Odin possessed a great deal more experience at actual fighting.

For one moment, it could have gone either way. For one moment, it looked as if his father was going to break and level a fist into his gut. Thor wondered if that was Loki's plan all a long, to get his father and brother to hospitalize each other. But Thor couldn't believe that. He was angry at Loki, sure, he was lying about him. But surely he couldn't do that, surely he wouldn't stoop that low. Thor stepped back, leaving his father staring angrily at him. "I can't have Loki convincing you his lies are truths. I can't have you believing I'd threaten my own brother. I may be quick to anger, but I would never threaten him."

Odin's face softened a little. "I'd like to believe you Thor, but I saw you in that Hall. I don't know what you're capable of." Odin stepped past his son, fury radiating off him in waves. "I'm going to go to the Feast, explain that we are having a family emergency right now, and then I'll be back." Odin stood in the door frame, looking back over his shoulder at his son. "If you're not ready to apologize then... I'm afraid you'll need to leave the premises..."

"Father!" Said Thor, rushing forward.

"No, Thor. It may be extreme, but I'm sure you can find board for a night if you have to." He flicked off the room's light. "I'm sorry, son." He then left, leaving Thor alone with only the faint cries of joy from the feasting hall to keep him company.

Thor fell back into the cushy armchair, feeling like he could easily fall asleep there and then. How could the night have gone so badly. He'd been looking forward to this party for months and in the space of an hour he'd felt like it was the worst night of his life. Maybe he should have stayed at the gym, imaging Loki's smug face plastered onto that punching bag. No, that wouldn't help at all, in fact it would probably have caused much more harm than good.

At first, the black surrounding him at seemed the perfect representation of his mood, but his eyes had quickly adjusted. That was a shame, in Thor's opinion. He could imagine himself doing all the things he never dared in the dark, but seeing the bookshelves and desks of his father's study reminded Thor of where he was. He wasn't off slaying giants and aliens with some magic hammer, he was sitting at his father's mansion, experiencing the worst feelings of his life.

_Perhaps that's what Loki wanted with __Sleipnir, _thought Thor, p_erhaps he just wanted to escape from this place. From this feeling._

Remembering all the times Thor had taken Loki out in the middle of the night because he felt sad and didn't want to walk alone almost made Thor cry. When had it all gone so badly. When had they grown so far apart. They might not have seen each other as often these days, but surely that wouldn't have affected his brother to this extent. Unless something had happened to him in Greece. Thor hoped not. No matter how angry he was at his brother, he could never be happy if someone had hurt him, especially not if someone had hurt him that badly.

Midway through his thoughts, Thor heard footsteps approaching down the hall. At first he thought it was just his father's, the gentle reverberations could often echo down the long halls, but he quickly realised what it was. There were two sets of footsteps.

He looked up, unable to leave his seat, afraid that someone was coming with his father to punish him. But, in the moment after the light-switch flicked on, and before his eyes were blinded with the sudden influx of light, Thor saw who had accompanied his father.

Loki stood in the doorway, just beyond his father.

"Why is he here?" Thor growled, barely bothering to open his eyelids, the uneven red that was his vision telling him it'd be useless.

"He's come to-" Began Odin, but the sentence was quickly overtaken by the sympathetic voice of Loki's. "I've come to apologize, brother." He explained, his voice quiet and sorrowful.

"What?" Thor asked, sure he'd misheard. For a brief moment, he thought the light had affected his hearing, before remembering science did not work like that. That and the explosions were two of the few things he learned from his science class.

"I've come to apologize for my actions, brother." Loki said. Squinting through the harsh light, Thor could see Loki give his father a slightly guilty look before turning back to his brother. "For the lies I've said."

"I should apologize too." Said Odin, "Loki has explained everything and while I'm not proud of what he's said, I am glad he has decided to tell the truth."

"You did?" He asked Loki, unable to believe his ears.

"Yes, brother. After everything I said, I felt... I felt terrible!" Said Loki, the guiltiest expression on his face. "I don't know what possessed me to say those things, probably the same thing that led you to swing a punch at me."

A weight seemed to sink into the depths of Thor's stomach. "I am sorry about that, brother..."

Loki smiled, "It's ok, Thor. It's how you work your anger out. Next time, please don't aim for my face. Loki's smile dropped slowly before he sighed. "Thor, I need you to understand that I'm not lying about the store."

"What."

"I'm taking advantage of the eviction, I'm not causing it." Explained Loki, as he took a step back to avoid another potential swing. Realising none were forth coming, he moved slightly closer but still maintained his distanced. "The fault still lies with Tony, not me."

"But, everything you said..."

"I'm afraid I was playing the villain." Said Loki, with a sad sort of smile. "You know how much we loved to play those games as a kid. I just kept it going into adulthood. And those drama classes at college, made me enjoy it even more."

"No." Said Thor shaking his head, "You have to be! Tony wouldn't lie about this!"

"Thor!" Yelled Odin, "I can't believe you're still not convinced! Loki is your brother and-"

"It's quite alright, father." Said Loki, placing a reassuring hand on his father's shoulder. "Thor you need to believe me. I don't want any bad blood to come between us. We are family, after all."

"But in the kitchens..."

"I was angry," Said Loki, tears welling up in his eyes. "If I could take back what I said, I would. I should never have said those things to you. Or any of my family. We're family no matter who we're born to."

"You're lying." Said Thor, albeit cautiously. "Tony wouldn't..."

Loki walked towards Thor, crouched down to his level. "Brother, please, look into my eyes."

"What is this-"

"Brother, if you can't see that what I am saying is the truth when you look into my eyes, then you truly have stopped loving me." Said Loki, his voice cracking just a little bit as he said "loving."

"Never..." Said Thor looking suspiciously at his brother. He wanted to believe Loki, he truly did, but something in his look, the slick-backed hair, the suit with the green scarfs and tie, just seemed off. He'd only began to adopt it recently, since he'd come back from his trip from Greece, and although Thor didn't think it was bad... there was something... wrong about it.

"Then look into my eyes," Said Loki, "and tell me that I'm lying, if you can."

Thor did, he searched deep into his brother's blue grey eyes. "Thor, I am not trying to close down your store." And, try as he might, he could not find anything to doubt in his eyes, they seemed filled with sadness, but they did not seem the eyes of a liar.

A single tear rolled down the side of Thor's cheek. "I'm so sorry, brother." Said Thor before he leapt from his seat and embraced his brother in an extremely tight bear hug.

Loki barely had time to react before his brother's bulk through him across the room. "Woah there!" His brother swung him a little, enough for Loki to see his father looking as if he were unsure of whether or not to interfere. But, Loki placated him, placing his arms gently on Thor's back before returning his brother's hug.

"I'm so sorry, brother." Said Thor, as he roughly released his brother from his strangle hold. "I felt sure that Tony would never lie to me."

"Yes, well," Loki smirked, "I am your brother."

"I know that. And I won't doubt you again." Said Thor, trying to hold back tears. "We are family. And family comes first."

Odin began to laugh boisterously, "I knew you'd get there in the end. You two are two close to have something like this destroy your friendship."

"Of course, but, what are we going to do about my friends?" Asked Thor.

"Well, I intend to offer Natasha a job." Said Loki, "And Bruce is starting his PhD next year, so he won't really be able to work."

"And what of Tony?"

"Well, truth be told, I don't really like Tony..." Said Loki, before he noticed his brother's glare. He rolled his eyes and laughed. "He's a tech genius, Thor. I'm sure he could get a million jobs, he could be inventing things if he wanted to. Getting him out of that comic book store might be good for him."

"And," Said Odin, looking extremely proud, "There's a position open in the company. Nothing major, just a receptionist position. But it'll give you the chance to work your way up and learn the tools of the trade."

Thor couldn't believe his ears. He knew he wanted to keep the store, but this seemed like the next best thing. He, and all his friends, would have jobs afterwards. It was all going to work out. "When does the position open?"

"In a couple of weeks." Boomed Odin.

"Which gives you enough time to finish the store." Said Loki, clearly pleased with himself. "You guys should have a going away party. You'd probably get a lot of customers because of it."

"I'll discuss it with Tony next time I see him."

"Well, best not tell mother of that." Said Loki, under his breath. Seeing Thor's confused expression, he mimed, "I'll tell you later," before turning back to their father.

They all stood there in a comfortable silence for a moment, their father's smile radiating pure joy. After a moment, he said, "I suppose I'd better get back to the feasting hall. Are you two coming with me?"

"In a moment, father." Said Thor, tremendously, swinging an arm around his slightly awkward brother.

"We just need to discuss a few more things?" Said Loki after a moment's hesitation.

Their father eyed them both suspiciously. "Ok... Just don't kill each other, ok. You've made so much progress tonight." He said, half serious.

"Don't worry," Said Loki, looking lovingly up as his older brother, "I think we've sorted out our issues."

Odin chuckled at that. "Ok, I'll see you two kids in a moment." He swept out of the room and down the hallway.

"Well, that got rid of father." Said Loki with a cheeky grin.

"I've never seen him so..."

"Possessive." Loki suggested.

"I was going to say concerned," Said Thor, with a grin, "But that works too." He gave Loki a little slap on the arm and asked, "Hey, what did you want to tell me?"

Loki looked confused for a moment before it hit him. "Oh, you mean with mother? She's taken to believing that Tony's working against me for some reason, working through you. She's going to have a talk with him, apparently. I don't think she's going to like you going back to see him."

"Well, I guess she'll just have to deal." Said Thor.

Loki looked up at him dumbfounded, "That seemed extremely mainstream for you, Thor. I don't think I've ever heard you say something you'd expect to hear from an actual modern person."

"Did the hipster just call me out on not being mainstream enough?" Thor asked mockingly.

"Ooh, hipster. And a _Harry Potter_ reference today. It's almost like you're becoming normal." They both laughed at that, Thor especially, so much so that he could barely think, let alone come up with an insult.

Listen, Thor," Loki said after a short time of additional laughter. "I know I've already said it but I am really sorry for the misunderstanding. I shouldn't have let something come between us, I was so stupid."

"Brother, it's my fault. I just can't let go of anger easily." Said Thor, a heavy weight falling into his stomach every time he thought of the scene in the hall.

"Nevertheless," Loki extended his hand, "I'd like to formally apologize."

"With a handshake?"

"It's traditional."

Thor chuckled, "Alright brother." He grasped his brother's hand and, trying not to laugh at the ridiculousness of the gesture, "I'm so sorry I doubted you."

"And I'm so sorry I lied about you." Said Loki, before releasing his grip. "Now, how about we go to the feast. And this time, please try not to interrupt the party with a fight."

Thor scoffed, "You are dead. I'm going to kill you."

With a gorgeous smile on his face, Loki ran off down the hallway. "You're going to have to catch me first." He yelled back, before his voice was drowned out by that of the Feast members.

Thor chuckled, before wiping his right hand on his jeans. The action was reflexive, his palm was wet so he wiped it, it was the sort of thing he did all the time. It was a moment later that he realised something. His left hand was completely dry and the only thing his right hand had touched was Loki's hand...

His whole world crashed down around him._ That was too good, _thought Thor, _that was too good to be an act. It must be something else, no one can act that well. Something must just have been on his hands. Some champagne or something..._

But Loki would wipe his hands before he came down to see Thor. It'd have to be something new, something immediate. Something within his father's study.

He looked around and saw the bottle of whiskey on his father's desk, but Loki hadn't touched that. He hadn't touched anything in the room besides him and his father.

_No,_ he thought, _please, he couldn't be lying. _

But it was the only explanation. Because no matter how well he could control his gaze, his speech, his body movements, there was one thing Loki could not control. One thing that'd always tip those in the know off.

Loki's palms were sweaty when he lied.

**This chapter was meant to only be 1500 words long. I do not know what happened...**

**90% proof read before tiredness took over. And then I kept going so if somethings up... that's the reason.**

**Anyway, I'm not out of this point, no more Feast of Valhalla, moving on to something else. This event has taken up two thirds of the story, it's bigger than fics I've written in the past. Basically, if you didn't like this, Steve and Tony will be heavily in the next few, as well as some Natasha and Loki. Hopefully, I'll write that soon. Thanks for reading and, remember;**

**Reviews are love!**


	7. Made awkward by 'Love is For Children'

For Steve, it was going perfectly. The sandy beach lay spread out below them, the wind spraying over the ocean bearing the taste of salt into every breathe he took. He was vaguely aware that Clint and Natasha were in the surf somewhere, probably beating each other with pool noodles knowing them, but none of that seemed to matter. Because right there, the grass underneath him, the sunlight on his face, the cool, gentle wind, it was all perfect.

And then there was Tony. He might have called his friends presence there the icing on the cake if the thought of Tony ever finding out wasn't so worrying. But it was hard to fault the saying, Tony looked strangely alluring to Steve in his black t-shirt and shorts, normally he hated it when men wore them. And, of course, his ever present sun glasses sitting lightly on the bridge of his nose completed the perfect portrait of his friend.

Tony lay back on the grass, a magazine held aloft as he flicked through the pages. Somehow, Steve had the impression that despite Tony's explanation that he was reading a computer magazine, the pictures inside were not of hard drives. More of the type often found on hard drives. He laughed a little at that.

"What are you giggling about?" Tony asked, his attention otherwise applied unwavering to the magazine in his hands.

"Just about … what you're reading." Fumbled Steve, turning a little red.

"What about it?" Asked Tony, sitting himself up to look at Steve. He pushed his sunglasses up past his brow.

"Nevermind!" Steve squealed, the blush turning his face a deep crimson.

"Oh, I get it." Said Tony, looking immensely amused with himself. He swung the magazine around so Steve could see it's contents. Unsurprisingly, it was a picture of a blond girl in a green bikini. She reminded Steve of someone, but at that moment he had no idea who it was. "Does that make you jealous?"

The noise that Steve made next sounded like a cat's meow being cut off by a strangle hold. "What?" He said, his body suddenly rigid. "Why would I be-"

Tony ended up laughing at Steve's body language, the metaphor either being completely noticed or completely ignored. He clapped his hands together as his fit of laughter forced him to his back, his body concaving into something that should have caused Tony immense pain. But he barely seemed to notice, merely wiping a single tear from his eye, his face the colour of a ripe tomato, as he tried to suppress the laughter.

"What's so funny?"

As Tony pushed himself back into a seating position, he slowly explained, through little titters, "Steve, I know."

"What!" Steve asked, butterflies suddenly feeling the need to physically burst out of Steve's stomach. He waited for his friend to continue but since nothing seemed forthcoming, Tony having picked his magazine back off the ground and flicking through, Steve continued. "You know what?"

Tony gave him a sly smile. "I know about you." He reached over and rested is hand on Steve's knee. "And about your feelings for me."

Steve suddenly felt his pants become a lot tighter. His breathing rough and shallow, his heart rate racing ahead of him, he could barely let out the stifled "what" which he replied with.

Tony's smile became almost sympathetic as he lent in closer towards Steve, "It's ok, Steve. I understand."

"You do?" Steve asked, as his whole world seemed to light up.

"Of course," Tony said, his lips inches away from Steve's own. "And I completely reciprocate."

Steve closed his eyes, ready to feel the hard press of Tony's lips against his own. The anticipation was killing him as he held his breath, he desperately needed to have their lips meet. And he could feel Tony's breath on his face.

"!" The noise seemed to feel his entire world for a solid moment, forcing Steve to take a stumbled leap back to avoid it. His eyes opened, he saw Tony seated in the same spot as he'd been before, but with a grin so wide it would give the Cheshire Cat pause. "!" Said Tony in a high, piercing tone.

"What?" Honestly, that hadn't been what Steve had expected to happen.

His eyes opened on the third bring. Pulling the hot and humid blankets off over his head, he reached out and pulled his iPhone from the table and checked who was calling.

"!" The forth ring was so loud, Steve felt it'd burst his ear drums. Pressing the 'on' button, Steve was blinded by harsh white light which he had to squint through to read the caller. Surprisingly, and a little ironically in Steve's opinion, it was Tony.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Asked Steve, massaging his temples. The light from outside his window was dark and blue, and even the usual overpowering sound of traffic had slowed down to a low murmur.

"Three thirty in the morning by my clock." Replied Tony. "Why, is your's broken?"

"Tony, that was a rhetorical question. It's just really early in the morning, on a Sunday, and I was having a very good dream. Which you interrupted."

"A dream, huh?" Tony asked. "Was I in it, by any chance?"

"Um," Said Steve, suddenly flustered. He grabbed a pillow from the other side of his bed and placed it over his lap. There was no way Tony could see that, but Steve certainly felt less naked with it placed there. "Not that I recall."

"Can't have been that good a dream then." Said Tony, a little sharply.

"Oh, trust me." Said Steve, looking around at the shadows of his dimly lit apartment, a chill wind passing through his window causing goosebumps to bubble up on his flesh. "It was better than reality."

"Harsh."

"Why the hell are you calling me at three thirty in the morning, anyway?" He asked, sleepily rubbing his eye.

"Oh yeah..." Said Tony, hesitating just a little bit. "How good are you at drawing?"

That hadn't been what Steve had expected to hear, although he wasn't entirely sure what that was anyway. "I took some art classes back in high school, and I can sketch ok, I guess. But that's about it. Why?"

"I need you to come over right away! Bring all the paper and pencils you'd need to draw something."

"What is this about?" Steve asked, suddenly grouchy.

"I can't tell you now. If someone's tapping my phone they could hear my idea and patent it first." Said Tony, sounding properly paranoid. "It's too good to let some FBI agent steal it. Screw the man!"

Suddenly wide awake, and extremely serious, Steve asked, "Tony, have you been drinking?" He silently dreaded the answer.

"No!" Said Tony immediately. "Not even a little bit! I've just been inventing and reading conspiracy forums. You know, something to pass the time."

"Can't this just wait until tomorrow, then?" Steve asked. Although Tony's answer made him relax it meant his phone call was extremely badly timed, a fact which started to make Steve a little angry with his friend.

"No, I'm going to be going to sleep as soon as the sun's up, and I work one until five in the afternoon." Said Tony matter-of-factly. "You need to come over now?"

"Can't you just tell me why?" Steve asked.

"Steve, if you're not over here in the next hour I will go down to that liquor land and buy as much alcohol as I can drink."

Steve bolted upright. "Please tell me you're not being series."

"I'm being deadly serious." Said Tony, his voice much lower than usual. "So, please hurry up." _Click._

The phone went dead, leaving Steve with the last few sentences playing over in his head. _As much alcohol as I can drink._

"Please tell me he did not just sink to that level." Said Steve out loud. _He wouldn't. Would he?_

No matter how much he wanted to believe Tony would never abuse their friendship like that, he very quickly leapt out of his bed and struggled around the room for his pants.

He'd known Tony for a while now, it'd have to have been at least ten years. They'd first met at a party his friend Bucky had hosted for him, celebrating his acceptance into the police force. They'd both been at the party, although Steve had wondered how he'd managed to get invited. The party was just meant to be for his friends and family, quite an extensive group considering all the friends he made on the force, and Bucky said he'd invite some his of his own friends as well, but no one seemed to know who'd invited Tony Stark. Normally, a party involving that many off duty police would have thrown a gate crasher in jail, but no one even seemed to consider that with Tony. Everyone seemed to know exactly who he was, the suit and sunglasses he always wore made him pretty distinguished, but no one could recall how he'd managed to find the party.

Steve, for his part, wasn't complaining one bit, not when the attractive twenty six year old first swaggered up to him and began flirting with him as though he were a movie star. Steve certainly couldn't see why, only a few years previously he'd just been a skinny, dorky kid constantly being bullied. As soon as he realised he wanted to join the force, however, Steve bulked up so he wouldn't be outclassed. It'd taken him months and months of training but he could finally go toe to toe with his older brother, and effortlessly pass the fitness side of the test. But, Steve had never once considered the possibility that all of that training might have made him look good. Not until that night.

At first, Steve was a little unsure, but he soon got the swing of it and although Tony didn't leave with Steve that night, he in fact was dating a blond girl named Pepper, they quickly became friends. And they'd stayed that way, through all of the crap the two of them went through. Through Tony's alcoholism, his break up with Pepper, through everything, and Tony still only viewed Steve as a friend. He knew he needed to move on, he often suspected Tony knew about his affections and was secretly using them for something, but he never seemed to be able to muster up the courage for that. In the end, he knew it wouldn't work out, Tony was too self-destructive for Steve and Steve was too shy. But convincing himself of that seemed to be an uphill battle, one which Tony assisted by rolling down flaming rocks.

So, in the end, he'd go off and help his friend. Although, he couldn't tell whether or not that was because of the vain hope that someday something good will come out of it, or just because they were friends. Steve let out a sigh as he tied his last shoe.

He missed Bucky, their friendship had been simple even when one of them was in a difficult place. He missed having that sort of friendship, the mutually beneficial one. Sometimes Steve imagined Tony as a sort of parasite leeching off him. But that was during his worst moments. The moments Tony never seemed to be around for.

Wishing he could just crawl back into his bed, Steve brewed himself a cup of instant coffee and drank it down scolding. It didn't seem to so much wake him up as put him in a lot of pain along with being exceedingly tired. But, at least it kept him focused, exactly the kind of thing that he'd need to get to Tony's place this late. He'd seen to many car accidents caused by someone focusing on something besides the road, and he had no intention of becoming a statistic.

"Ah, you're here." Said the silhouette of Tony, framed perfectly by the wall of light filling his garage. Steve had been afraid that he wouldn't be able to find his friend's house in the dark, he very rarely went over there sinceTony mostly used it as a place for his failed projects. But that hadn't been a problem, Steve had found Tony's house pretty much straight away, it was the only one blaring _ACDC _with the lights all on at three thirty in the morning. Even the college students were generally quieting down by that time of night. But Tony could turn completely nocturnal when something had engrossed his attention. Hopefully it wasn't criminal, it had happened before and Steve ended up having to bail his friend out. But, even if it were, at least he'd have a say in it earlier this time. He might be able to stop it getting out of hand.

As he pulled up in his friend's drive way, Tony's Impala staring patiently into the garage beside him, he noticed someone else accompany him. A tall figure, standing awkwardly at the back of Tony's garage, arms perfectly still by his sides, head lowered to the crowd. "Oh, please tell me you haven't brought someone else into this." Steve muttered under his breathe, preparing to bust a drug deal if his friend's usual actions had been taken.

He hopped out of his car and marched towards Tony, his chest feeling more constricted with every passing step. "Tony, who is that?" Steve demanded, as Tony roughly grabbed him by his hand.

"Who's who?"

Steve pointed towards the figure. "That man over there?"

Tony frowned, following Steve's gesture. "Ah!" He said after a moment. "That's our model." He said as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world.

"Our model?" Steve asked, cautiously.

"Of course," Said Tony, walking back into his garage. "What did you think you'd be drawing."

"Please tell me I'm drawing him with his clothes on." Steve asked, the blush creeping up his cheeks. In the pale moonlight, the colour could barely be seen, so he waited until the heat left his face before he decided to follow his friend.

The garage was exactly what he expected from Tony's house, completely covered in junk. Most of it was pushed up against one wall or another, but random scraps of metal and car engines laid scattered randomly across the floor.

"Why would it wear clothes?" Tony asked.

"It?" Steve asked, thinking he might just ditch Tony there and then. He still had a bad feeling about this.

Tony looked like he'd missed something for a moment more until it hit him. "Right, sorry. That's not a person."

"Huh?" Steve asked, not feeling very relieved.

"That," Said Tony with a mixture of exuberance and pride, "Is a fully maneuverable, mechanical robot."

Steve's jaw dropped. "You built a robot?"

His smug smile dropped after a second. "No. As much as it a shames me to admit it, I'm not that good. That," He said, pointing over towards his machine, "Is more like a remote controlled car. Just with legs and bipedal."

Steve hesitantly approached it, slowly examining it from every angle. It seemed to be made of an old suit of armour, just painted red and and gold in parts, and a circular blue UV light shining down onto the floor beneath it. On closer inspection the light appeared to be coming from a circular whole in the machine's chest. Grabbing it's head in his hands, Steve turned the metal man's face towards him, noticing that it's face plate was painted gold, with glass panels for eyes. Steve let the head drop and walked a few steps back. _What the hell is he playing at?_

"Do you like it?" Asked Tony, as he stepped proudly by him to stand in front of his creation. Clicking a button on his phone, Tony stood with his arm's splayed out to his sides, as his robot began to correct it's posture. "It is my greatest invention yet, in my opinion." As it stood correctly, it's body perfectly postured and facing directly ahead, Tony calmly said, still with some measure of pride, "I call it, the Iron Man suit."

"That thing's a suit?" Asked Steve, still astonished at the depths of his friend's expansive insanity.

"No, that'd be too hard." Said Tony as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I just needed to build it so you'd know exactly what I wanted drawn."

"Why do you need me to draw that?" Steve asked, feeling completely lost.

"I'm tired of just selling comics." Said Tony, "I want to write comics. I'd draw them to if I thought I had the skill."

"You want to write comics..." Began Steve, his gaze drifting between the metal man and Tony. "You?"

"Yes." Tony said, cheerfully.

"What about?"

Tony smiled. "You're going to love this." Tony ran to the corner of his garage which was surprisingly free of clutter, as it contained only one chair, which he pulled a notepad off. Mumbling under his breathe, Tony began to flip through the pages of his notepad, occasionally tearing a page out at random. Finally, he seemed to come across what he was looking for. "Ok, this is the first draft."

"Anthony Shark, head of Shark Industries, is captured by terrorists on a mission to Afghanistan to show off the Jericho Missile, his new weapon, to the US military. You following?"

Steve fixed his fingers tightly to his temples and sighed. "Anthony Shark?"

"Cool name, right?"

"Um... don't you think it sounds a little too much like... your own name?" Steve asked, treading carefully. Although he could see Tony writing a self-insert story, he would never be sure if he'd done it on purpose or if it just slipped into his writing.

"No..." Said Tony, eyeing Steve curiously, "Well, I suppose Shark is similar to Stark. But Shark would be an great name to have."

"And what about Anthony?"

"What about Anthony?" Tony asked, apparently genuinely.

"What is a common nickname for people called Anthony?" Steve asked, deciding to take this in baby steps.

Tony looked at Steve like he'd just suggested a link between rabbits and cancer. "Annie?"

"No... I was thinking more alone the lines of Tony." Said Steve, hoping his friend would see the link before he pointed it out. "Because, the way you've done this sounds like you've just made a conspicuous revising of your own name for your fictional character." The look Tony gave him seemed to suggest he was never going to get it. Nevertheless, Steve persevered. "In fact, one might almost be tempted to say that you were writing yourself into that situation?"

"I wouldn't do that." Tony said after a moment's consideration. "This character is completely different."

"How so?" Steve asked, tightly.

"Shark is a sarcastic, womanizing inventor with severe issues with alcohol and his father."

Steve stared at his Tony, completely speechless. "And that doesn't sound familiar to you?"

"No." Said Tony, looking back at the Iron Man with the reverence one might have for someone more experienced then them. "Shark is a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist."

_Oh, God, he's written himself as a Mary Sue. _Thought Steve with a great deal of dread. "Never mind. Continue?"

"If you insist." Said Tony, the smirk on his face suggesting he thought he'd just won the argument. "Well, in this cave, he gets an "arc reactor," sort of a giant magnet, placed on his chest to keep the shrapnel from entering his heart."

"Why don't they just take the shrapnel out?"

Tony stared blankly at Steve. "Haven't gotten that far yet... It's not important anyway, what is important is what else it's used for." Said Tony with a certain amount of mysticism.

"What?" Steve groaned.

"It powers a suit?" Said Tony, his tone of voice taking a very anti-climatic turn.

"That suit?" Steve asked. "Why would terrorists give him something that could do that? In fact, why would terrorists do anything to help him out at all?"

"Because they need him to build a Jericho Missile for them." Said Tony, a little defensively as if he were annoyed with Steve's constant questions.

"But that still doesn't explain why they gave him something to power the suit. Is he meant to wear it?"

"No." Said Tony, "They didn't even know about it."

"They didn't know about the suit?" Steve asked, confused. "Then how did he get the suit?"

"He made it!"

"He made that suit?" Pointing at the intricately designed robot next to Tony.

"And the arc reactor."

Steve just looked at his friend completely astounded with his friend. "When?"

"In the cave with the terrorists."

"He made that," Steve pointed towards the suit, "and an arc reactor in a cave!"

Tony smiled, "With a box of scraps. And then he used it to fight his way out." Tony mimed shooting missiles from his wrists. Or, pretending to be Spider Man, it was difficult to tell.

"And the terrorists didn't notice that their stuff was going missing?"

Tony paused. "Yeah, that might be a problem..."

"You think?"

"It's ok. This is still just a draft." Said Tony, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "But that's ok, it's one of the reasons you're here. To iron out the bugs in my ideas."

"Really?" Steve asked, amazed Tony thought so highly of him. He usually just acted condescendingly towards Steve because of his rather limited grasp on technology. But, here he appeared to be treating him as an equal, actually caring about his opinion and not just pretending he knew everything.

"No, not really." Said Tony, abruptly. "If I wanted that, I'd call Bruce. At least he's familiar with comics."

"So, I'm just here to draw it, then?" Steve asked, trying to hide his disappointment. He honestly didn't know how he dealt with Tony. It was four thirty in the morning and he was dragged out of bed by his friend seemingly just to be insulted. All of this was not giving Steve a lot of confidence that Tony would someday admit that he loved him. He sighed wishing that he was still lying back in bed at home.

"Oh, yes." Admitted Tony. "But I don't want you to have to use your imagination, you'll get lost. I don't need your artistic... brilliance for this. I need your drawing ability." He pointed towards the Iron Man suit, "I need you to draw it." He pressed a button on his phone and the robot slowly began to move. "From every angle."

It raised it's right leg and slowly put it forward, boldly smashing it's foot against the concrete floor. To Steve's amazement, it held steady and it's left leg was raised as the other held it's weight. Of course, such brilliance could not come from Tony Stark, not even with alcohol and at four thirty in the morning, and the machine toppled over, hitting the floor with a loud CLANG!

"Are you sure about that?"

"It's meant to that." Said Tony as he pressed another button on his phone to stop the Iron Man from kicking the air frantically. Sliding to the floor, he helped push the machine aloft, sliding the legs back in place with a small mechanical screech.

Despite himself, Steve began to chuckle at his friend's behaviour as he struggled to move the machine back to it's position by the wall. "Here." He said as he picked up the robot, his muscles straining under it's surprisingly great weight.

Tony looked glad to be relieved of the weight although he pretended to assist, his hands at least gripping the shiny crimson metal. As Steve placed the robot down, he turned to Tony, panting and sweating, who said. "Well, that was hard."

"Tell me about it." Said Steve. "Shouldn't we close the garage the door?"

"Why would we do that?"

Steve chuckled, Tony never grasped the concept of common courtesy. "So you didn't bother your neighbours."

Tony frowned a little, before clicking his fingers at Steve and pulling his phone out once more. After tapping a few buttons, the mechanical shuddering of the garage door rattled through the room, the door slowly juddering to the floor.

"You literally do have an app for everything, don't you?"

Tony waved his phone at his friend, before answering with a slight swagger. "That's why you need to go Android. You can make everything you need." When the door hit the bottom of the garage Tony gave a forlorn look towards the Iron Man, before heading inside. "Except make you toast. That ability has so far alluded me."

Steve followed, watching patiently as the lights flickered on inside Tony's home. "That's probably a good thing." He said, yawning. "You'd never go outside otherwise."

"That's unfair." Tony said from the end of the hallway, the threshold of which Steve just crossed. "I'd still need to get bread."

There were plenty of reasons for someone to never come to Tony's home, but the most obvious of these would be that it managed to remain inordinately filthy despite the fact that Tony never lived in it.

Steve winced as he looked at the decrepit hallway, the presumably white wall sagging down into strange rivers of plaster across it's dusty surface. What little space appeared to be flat was covered in posters and papers, some for comic books and others for some long forgotten schematic. To top things off, the walls were stacked high with former computers and text books, keyboards thrust pointlessly onto yellowing pages.

Looking down at the slightly damp brown tiles, Steve took a cautious step forward, afraid something would leap out and grab his ankle. He said a silent prayer in thanks for the fact that Tony didn't have carpet, he didn't think he could deal with any insects it might contain, nor the soft squelching noise it would make under foot.

"Maybe you should leave now and never come back." Steve yelled out, as he almost slipped over on a strange green section of the tiles. "It would certainly be healthier for you."

"I'd need someone to look after my stuff!" Tony yelled back, the sounds of a fridge opening accompanying his voice.

"I think you'd need to lose some stuff." Said Steve, finally making it to the kitchen, a surprisingly clean one being covered in only a small layer of dust. Tony was busily cleaning out two glasses under a tap, a bottle of lemonade standing by his side. "Have you ever thought of leaving this place open to robbers?"

Tony pretended not to hear. "Is lemonade alright with you? I think I have some coke in the fridge, but lemonade's your favourite, isn't it?"

"It's Fanta, actually." Said Steve, accepting the glass of lemonade Tony poured.

"Oh. Well, lemonade's good too." Said Tony.

They both stood silent their for a moment, Tony looking as though he were on the verge of speaking but he never quite managed to say what he wished. After a moment, Steve asked the question he needed to hear. "Tony," he began, hesitating before continuing, "why did you call me?"

"I already told you." Tony said quickly. "I need you to draw some pictures of the Iron Man."

"You could have waited until the morning. If I had a dime for every time you've told me about some crazy scheme you concocted late at night, I'd be a billionaire."

"Like Anthony Shark."

"It's still a terrible name." Said Steve, a small smile curling at the edge of his lips. When Tony didn't respond, always a rare occurrence, he continued with his original line of thought. "My point is, you've never woken me in the middle of the night before, so if you've done it today there has to be a reason for it. And, somehow, I don't think it's because of that robot in your garage."

Tony drank his entire glass of lemonade in one go. "I came here wanting to build it, you know? After the fight we had this morning, yesterday morning now, I suppose... I had to do something to keep my mind off drink. And then I just started writing. Just got so involved in it, normally my mind's always drifting except when I'm inventing, even when I'm having sex, as it happens..." Tony drifted off, his eyes looking somewhere far away.

Steve had to click his fingers in front of Tony when he realised he wasn't going to come out of it anytime soon. _I wonder who he's thinking about, _he thought with a pang of jealousy.

The noise seemed to awaken him. "Anyway..." He said quickly, leaning back against the bench, "I was completely absorbed, this whole story just appeared before my eyes and I had to write it down. Made a few character biographys, schematics for the suit, stuff like that. But even that couldn't keep my mind off Thor's scheming little brother... But, not for the reason I thought."

"What do you mean?" Steve asked.

"I don't particularly care if I lose the store but I won't let anyone with a mullet take that store away from the Avengers."

"Did you actually just call your employees the Avengers?"

Tony just shrugged. "It's what we call ourselves. Earth's Mightiest Heroes, type deal." He said as though it explained everything. And maybe it did, Steve just felt as though was a comic book reference there that he was missing.

"So, how did that lead to you building a robot in your garage?"

"I'm thirty six, Steve." He explained. "Don't you think I should be doing something better with my life than just running a comic book store? I will keep the store, but surely I can do something else. Open up a new store in some other city, make a franchise, or write my own comic book series."

Tony sighed. "But you want to know why I called you here."

"Please?" Steve pleaded, fearing that something really bad had come up.

"I came here with every intention of building that robot." Explained Tony, a sort of panic creeping into his eyes. "I needed you to draw it, that's all true. But like you said, I could have waited. You could have come over at any time, hell I could have loaded it into my trunk and driven to you. But you said... You said that if I felt the urge to drink then I should..."

Steve placed his hands gently on Tony's shoulders, looking his friend right in the eye. "Where is it?" He asked, as kindly as he could muster.

"I didn't buy it. I just went down to the basement looking for parts and found a whole crate full of whiskey." Steve didn't wait to hear anything else, he stormed off, he was fairly certain he knew where the basement door was. "Where did I even get a crate full of whiskey. How could that have possibly been a good idea."

Steve walked back through the hallway towards the discreet looking door barely cleared of it's barricade. Careful to avoid slipping, Steve slid through the debris of countless experiments and pulled on the door handle. It wouldn't budge for a moment, as he pulled the handle he felt a jolt go through the surrounding wall, but after a moment, he managed to open it.

Steve could hear Tony walking behind him. "You should give to Clint and Tash. They'd probably end up drinking all of it by themselves."

Steve ignored him, flicking the light-switch on and observing, in horror, the hoarder's paradise. Stacks and stacks of old electronics and furniture brushed the roof forming loosely defined mountains of junk. The rest of floor was much more sparsely covered, sheets of paper and disks creating a light stream of stored information flowing between the pillars.

Without turning back, Steve asked, "where is it?"

"Towards the far right corner." Explained Tony, a spot Steve immediately discovered, one junk mound having been seemingly toppled, splaying splinters of wood and glass completely over one corner. "But you might need some help carrying it up, it seems pretty heavy."

Steve descended into hell, watching the ground for anything that could cause him to slide into some painful fracture. Finding a sad looking broom near the bottom of the closest mound, Steve quickly began parting the information stream, pushing it far enough away to allow him a clear path to exit without injury.

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" Tony called, safe from his high altitude. "I could clear that path for you if you wanted."

"Tony, if you really want to help," Steve impatiently yelled back as he sweeped aside a puddle of discs. "Go and get some towels and dry down that hallway of yours! There is absolutely no reason that it should be as damp as it is."

"That sounds boring." Tony said barely loud enough for Steve to hear.

But he did hear it. Walking back a few steps to get a clear look at Tony, he glared at his friend. "Tony, the only reason I am helping you right now is because I'm scared that you're going to start drinking and not stop until you're in the hospital." He said, his fist clenching around the handle of the broom. "Except, knowing you, you wouldn't end up in hospital, locked up in some hell or other, you'd pass out and choke on your own vomit."

"That's not a very nice image."

"It's not meant to be a nice image!" Steve bellowed, causing Tony to noticeably flinch. "It's meant to be a horrifying image. Because, when you are like this, you cut off all ties to the world and live with a pile of computer chips and a bottle of whiskey for company! And you might have called me this time but I will always worry about what happens when you don't. When you forget about you friends, here among your filthy towers. You're going to be alone and miserable and scared and the only thing that's going to keep you going is your inventions. I've seen it before! I saw it when your dad died, I saw it when Pepper broke your heart and I absolutely refuse to see it again now!

"Because, one day, Tony, you're going to go to far, you're going to poison yourself completely. And no one is going to be able to get you to stop. And you're going to die, alone, and no one is going to know for days, maybe even weeks. And everything we could have done to help you will have been gone. And maybe," Steve growled, edging slowly back towards Tony, "that doesn't scare you. Maybe you wouldn't mind that happening, but if you can't give a damn about your own life you might as well give a damn about your friend's happiness!"

Tony looked absolutely terrified. "I'll go get the towels!"

"Good idea!" Steve yelled. He turned back to the job at hand and began moving towards the crate, piled on top of a series of discarded lawn chairs..

It was quite big, wooden, not plastic, and looked like it could easily contain two dozen bottles of whiskey. "This isn't going to be fun," Steve mumbled.

Twenty minutes later, Steve had loaded the crate into the boot of his car. It'd been extremely hard to lift the monstrosity up, let alone take it to his boot, but Steve had somehow managed. His muscles now strained, his neck and back aching, not to mention the highly probable chance of nightmares now that he'd heard the squelching noise wet towels made when stepped on, but it was all worth it. If only to see the relieved look on Tony's face.

"Thanks, man." He said with a melancholic look about him. "I owe you one."

Steve felt like there was a great lead weight in his stomach. "Tony, about what I said in the basement-"

Tony raised a hand between the two of them. "No need." He said, with a small smile, "you were completely right. I wasn't really taking it seriously. I should have told you the deal from the get go. I tried to convince myself that if I just focused on the Iron Man it'd all go away but..." Tony gazed turned towards the crate an action immediately noticed by Steve whom responded by closing the boot. "That much free alcohol wouldn't escape my thoughts very easily."

"Still," Steve shifted awkwardly, placing his hands in his pockets, "thanks for calling me."

"I feel like I should be apologizing, actually," Tony hit Steve fondly on the chest with the back of his hand. "But, you'd probably be all pure insist it's no big deal."

Steve smiled, although his whole body seemed to have stiffened when Tony slapped him. Slurring his words a little, Steve replied. "Well, you know, you're my friend and I wanted to help."

"Well, you certainly did that." Tony looked towards the Eastern sky which was beginning to turn slightly purple. "Sun's coming up."

"Isn't that your signal to go back to sleep?" Steve asked, playfully, relaxing a little.

"As much as it is yours for waking, yes." Tony said with a laugh. "I suppose you should be off then."

"Yeah." Said Steve, checking his phone's clock. It was only five. He guessed that meant summer was coming. "I think I need to go home and sleep for a few hours."

"Well, I have a spare bed if you need it."

"No offense, Tony," Steve walked over to the drivers side of his car, "But I'm fairly certain that any bed here be kind of damp. How about you come to my place?"

"Nah, I've got some final stuff that I could do before I go to bed. Would you mind coming back over in a few days to do the drawings?" Tony asked, almost timidly.

"Of course." Steve said, with a smile. "I'd be delighted." He opened the driver's door and hopped into the car. "And remember Tony. If you need help, please call."

"I promise." Said Tony.

"I mean it, Tony. I've got a spare bed, too. Just call and I'll come pick you up."

"I'll keep that mind, but right now, I just need sleep." Tony said, stepping slowly backwards. He waved to Steve before turning and heading back into his house. "Day, Steve!"

Steve chuckled under his breathe, "Sweet dreams, Tony." He closed the door and started the car up. Sitting there, the engine running, he briefly wondered whether or not he should turn the car off and go back inside. He didn't want to declare his love to him, that'd seem a little too cheesy, he just genuinely thought his friend needed some company at the moment.

But he knew Tony and doing something like that could make him feel like a prisoner. And that would just cause him to drink more. Or something even stupider. Tony needed to be alone just as much as he needed someone with him, a combination that did not help anyone.

Although he didn't like it, he had to trust Tony just a little, no matter how worried he was. Disengaging the handbrake, Steve drove down the driveway and into the empty streets beyond.

**It's done, wooh! I feel sick now, and I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, but I think it sums up the two of them quite well. I hope you like it.**

**Reviews are good, critical reviews even better because then I can help improve my writing.**

**And now I'm barely coherent. Sorry about that...**


	8. Tony, a Knight of Cerberus

Tony had learnt many things over the years, not least of which was the sleeping habits of "normal people". While he could stay awake all night, sleeping away a few hours in the morning, most people didn't seem to be able to replicate the feat. Normally he didn't care, unbeknownst to Steve he did in fact have a habit of waking people in the middle of the night for seemingly trivial errands. Tony just made sure to cycle them around so he didn't end up making everyone despise him. He did, however, prefer to have Steve come. Possibly the reason he called him so infrequently.

This was different, however. He wasn't just calling another one of his friends, someone who was used to his bizarre behaviour, Pepper had been out of his life for over three years now. She was probably friends with a bunch of people who slept between eleven pm and seven am and ate healthy foods. Not to mention actually eating.

No, it would have been extremely awkward to call her at five in the morning, especially on a Sunday, and no matter how much bad blood there was there, he just couldn't do it to her. He wanted her to be happy.

_Well, that explains then. _Tony thought, as he sat on a box of comics in the store's back room. _But why aren't you doing it now?_

Strumming his phone against his fingers, Tony had been asking himself that question for several hours now. He'd barely managed to sleep at all once Steve left, just a few fretful hours of tossing and turning, a dream that Loki had thrown him out a window included for free. Awaking at approximately ten o'clock, Tony had dragged himself out of bed and headed off to work. He knew he wasn't going to get any more sleep that night, he might as well make himself useful.

Not that he actually did anything. After getting involved in his usual fight with the manager of the Wall Mart who's parking lot he used, his excuse of feigned ignorance about it's 'employees only' nature had long since stopped being believable, he hurried past a Starbucks, purchased some terrible coffee, and staggered off to work. Natasha had been happy to see him, there were quite a few copies of Uncanny X-men that needed to be stacked and she was being swamped by customers. Tony was glad to help, at first, but when he remembered his shift didn't start until one he'd run to the back-room pretty fast, almost pushing over a customer in the process.

He'd tried reading the few battered Anne Rice books they had stashed in the back, but his mind kept drifting off to thoughts of Pepper. The few times he managed to keep his mind on the words before him, he'd been interrupted by Tash asking him to do this or that. He'd always politely nod and say, "sure, I'll get right on it." But when push came to shove he'd just lie on the table, his mind on a million things at once, his phone tapping against his fingers. Eventually, she stopped asking.

Of course, by that time, he'd lost interest in reading. It was just Pepper, he needed to talk to her more desperately then he had ever felt before. Or maybe that was just typical exaggeration, a hyperbole to make his life seem more interesting, to earn himself some more sympathy from this audience of one. No one could read his thoughts after all, but maybe he could like himself if he was miserable enough.

But such musings on hypothetical situations were not the kind of thing that would help him now. Nothing really could. Bruce came a couple of minutes early to his shift, starting at twelve, and asked him a few questions, most of them sliding off his mind as he answered them.

Eventually, Bruce left and Natasha came back to say she was off. He didn't even look up. "Sure, I'll be right on it," he mumbled, his thumb typing Pepper's phone number on an imaginary phone. Was it even still Pepper's number? Maybe she'd changed it? Maybe some idiot would pick up her phone and ask who was calling, only to get angry when he found out it was her ex. Hopefully Pepper had found someone better than that.

When it was only ten minutes until his own shift Tony realised nothing was going to happen unless he himself did something. Sighing, he checked down his contacts list for Pepper's number. At first he couldn't find it, and despite knowing it off by heart, Tony had a moment of panic. Not that you would know from looking at him of course, he seemed perfectly calm, if apathetic, but on the inside he felt as if he were falling into a deep black pit.

It took him a few minutes to realise that he'd just changed her name to Evil Bitch Queen From Hell. He felt a stab of guilt at that, he'd never wanted them to drift so far apart and honestly he wasn't entirely sure how it had happened. He remembered the fights but they'd had them long before without any hint of break ups. _But that's life_, he mused.

Even with the contact right on the screen, Tony still couldn't bring himself around to actually call her. He hadn't felt like this in a long time, not over a person anyway. Well, not over any one person. He didn't know if it was his fear of losing the store, what Steve had said to him that morning or something else entirely, but it was hurting him. And he needed to hear a familiar voice, someone with whom he could converse entirely without having them know the issue at hand. And the only person who fit the bill, and wasn't someone he'd never met, was Pepper. But he still felt like letting the minutes slip through his fingers, delay the conversation until he felt capable of making it. Whenever that was.

With only a few minutes left on the clock, he made the call. He didn't particularly want to, but he needed to, or at least he thought he did. He couldn't work with their conversation playing out in his mind, one that could go a hundred different ways and never once become what Tony had expected.

It may help to understand Tony better to know that it never once crossed his mind that, as the owner of the store, he could simply cancel his shift.

Deciding that nothing more could be done, he hit the call button, delaying would only bring him to more grief. He raised the phone to his ear.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three rings.

Four rings.

Five rings.

Six rings.

"Hi, this is Pepper-"

"Pepper!" Screamed Tony loud enough for Bruce, seated behind the counter in the store main, to hear. Actually hearing her voice again after all these had reduced all restraint he had to a few flimsy rubber hands connected by straws. "Sorry, I just rea-"

"I'm not able to pick up the phone right now but if you'd like to leave a message, please go ahead, right after the beep." BEEP.

_Well, that happened faster than expected. _The sinking feeling seemed to feel his entire body draining him of any energy he might have possessed. Tony was no stranger to apathy, especially when he was bored, but it was rare that he could get to that level of indifference. Speaking seemed too great an effort to make.

However, he couldn't just let their be two minutes of _his _silence recorded ready for when she came back. That just seemed slightly too serial killer for Tony's taste. Finding the right words to say, however, that was the hard part.

"Pepper..." He began, about ten seconds into the recording. "Please don't be too freaked out by the breathing on that voice mail. It's just me, not having progressed to a criminal as you said I would. Turns out, when your best friend is a cop it's a little hard to do that. Not impossible, of course, don't tell me it's impossible. I'd just accept it as a challenge and that wouldn't end particularly well for anyone." He almost chuckled. "I suppose, you may be wondering why I'm calling after three years. You may have thought it was over, I certainly thought it was over, and I guess it still is, but... I just need a friend to talk to right now, Pepper. And while you certainly don't owe me anything, I would appreciate it if you'd call. I get off work at five tonight. Anytime after that should be fine. Again, you don't have to, I will understand if you don't want to. Please don't feel obliged. But if our time together meant anything to you, before all that crap... If any of that was good, please call me. I just need someone to talk to." _How much space am I taking up on her phone? _"Goodbye."

He hung up, the urge to throw his phone as hard as possible suddenly burning apart the apathy. But, to avoid subsequently being struck by the falling projectile he'd have to throw it to the side of him, which unfortunately would be no where near as powerful a throw. Thus, there'd be no satisfying smashing phone. Maybe he should find somethings adhesive which would help stick it to roofs after sudden collisions. Although, that'd probably defeat the purpose.

However, musings on how best to damage a phone were not exactly productive and his shift was about to start. So, no matter how much Tony wished to stay locked away in the back room, he decided that it was probably not a very good idea to remain shut in.

So, sucking it up, Tony swung his legs over the side of the table, turned his phone off, and went out into his store.

One day, Tony would discover exactly how many people came into the store at certain times thus ridding him of the need to study customer numbers. Today, however, was probably not going to be that day, having both Bruce and himself at the store seemed ridiculous, it just made him feel like some sort of comic book chaperon. Which, considering the pile of adult comics they kept under the counter, was not an impossible analogy.

However, as it were, the only customer in the store was flicking through a _Hellboy _comic, a stack of other issues lying at his feet, while Bruce was busy stacking the _X-men_ comics Tony had been to lazy to. Making a mental note of the _Hellboy _fan, Tony had a deep distrust of people who wore sunglasses in doors, he went over to Bruce.

"Good afternoon." He said boisterously, leaving as much of his mood in the back room as he possibly could.

"Oh, you're finally awake?" Asked Bruce, a certain amount of scorn in his expression. "How was it, Sleeping Beauty?"

"How was what?"

"Your nap?" Said Bruce with a scowl.

Tony gave Bruce a strange look. "I wasn't napping."

Bruce sighed. "Really, because it was kind of difficult to tell seeing as you were entirely unresponsive. I figured you were comatose or something."

"You thought I was comatose and you didn't call an ambulance?" Tony asked. "What kind of friend are you?"

"Tony, that's called an exaggeration." Bruce said through clenched teeth. "I'm trying to make you feel guilty for ignoring me."

_Well, it's not working. _Tony thought, taking extra care to think before he said something. He'd once seen Bruce punch through a wall when he was angry, even if it was only made of plywood . The kid might not look all that imposing, but Tony was not going to say something stupid to set him off. The kid was eerily strong and had a remarkably short fuse when pushed. Most of the time he was exceedingly cheerful, but sometimes... Well, Tony was not going to risk it.

"Look, I'm sorry." He said, hoping it sounded sincere. "It wasn't intentional, I was just kind of in the middle of something."

"You were just sitting there."

"I was thinking," Tony said, trying not to sound offended, "and if it makes you feel any better I did the same thing to Natasha."

"Hmm, not really." Bruce said, loosening up a little. Tony took that as a sign that he was forgiven.

"Well, that's a shame. Because I really am sorry." Said Tony, walking towards the counter which he soon wiped his finger over. As he pulled it away he realised it was coated with a thin layer of dust. _Doesn't Natasha normally clean this?_ "And, for the rest of the day, I am one hundred percent dedicated to this job. If this place needs a good dusting, I'll do it. If some comics need to be stacked, I'll do it. If a customer needs to be served, I'll do it."

During Tony's speech, the man in the sunglasses had walked up to him. "Excuse me, how much for this _Sandman _omnibus?"

"Can you see I'm in a middle of a conversation." Chastised Tony, looking at the man out of the corner of his eye. The man looked a little offended, which Tony was fine with, until he saw Bruce's "I'm the grown up" face. He sighed at the stern look, silently mouthing, "really?"

"Yes." Bruce responded, similarly silent.

"Fine." Tony completely turned to the sunglass wearing man. "I'm sorry, that was rude. Come here." He took the man by the hand and practically dragged him over to a series of shelves in the far right corner. "Here." He said, taking the omnibus off the man and placing it back on the shelf. He then pulled off a _Ghost Rider _collection. "Take this. They're both three hundred dollars, and this one is better."

"Why?" The man asked, a little sheepishly.

"It just is." He said, looking back to Bruce for support. He wasn't really expecting his employee to role his eyes at him, but nevertheless, Bruce did. And a part of Tony felt that that was insubordination. "What?"

Bruce sighed. "Here," he said as he walked over towards the sunglasses man. "_The Sandman _is a good series. Even if some people don't agree." He said, looking over at Tony who reacted as if he'd just been falsely accused of murder.

"Well, Neil Gaiman is a great writer."

"That he is." Said Bruce with a smile as he walked over to the counter. Maybe that's why customers liked to go to him instead of Tony. He just seemed so much more affable. "You do want to buy this right?"

"Of course." Said the sunglasses man. "I thought it would cost more actually. I'm glad it doesn't."

Bruce chuckled. "That's always a good thing."

Strangely enough, watching Bruce deal with the customer actually made Tony feel a little jealous. Maybe he really wasn't cut out for this job after all, he was a little too sarcastic for most people. Hopefully _Iron Man _would be able to change all of that. Or maybe he could do something with computers, where he didn't have to explain himself to people. Decisions, decisions.

"I'm sorry about my friend, he can be a little strange at times." Said Bruce, as he handed the sunglasses man his purchase.

"That's ok. He was just trying to show his opinion." The man said with a nervous smile.

"Oh, yeah, he does like doing that..." Said Bruce, a little disgruntled. He gave the customer one last smile as he headed out the door. "Please come again."

"Well, a hundred dollars profit." Said Tony, feeling pleased. "That's not bad for one sale. We might be able to stay in business at this rate."

Bruce smirked. "Not if you keep acting like that to the customers."

"He wanted to buy a _DC _comic." Said Tony as if that justified his actions.

"Which we sell and use to make money." Bruce explained, calmly. "Letting your personal prejudices get in the way of sales isn't the best business plan in the world. Especially not when you want to keep the store open."

Tony was silent for several moments as he let Bruce's words sink in. "But it's _DC!_"

"Tony, we are not having this conversation." Bruce ordered.

Bruce's new found confidence would soon take a step back once Tony had asserted himself, but for the time being Bruce seemed so assured in his ability, it was nice to see it in the kid. Tony didn't really feel like taking it away from him.

That was, however, only until the door swung open with the small, golden tinkling of the bell to accompany it. To ask either of them why they'd both looked when it had opened would have been impossible, the store, usually, always had customers coming in every five minutes. And while Bruce normally gave the customers a curt nod as they walked in, only answering them if they looked like they were in need of help, Tony almost never did, unless they'd gone a few hours without a customer.

However, in a show of emotion quite unseen outside of literature, the build up of anger passing through there store's door attracted both men's notice. Turning in sync, fear coursing through Bruce's system, a mild interest through Tony's, they noticed the woman.

She'd definitely once been beautiful, and while in many ways she still was, it seemed now to come from her presence. She had an aura about her and, along with her blond hair and blue eyes, it culminated into a power, a distinguished look about her that set her apart from the majority of the human race. She did have wrinkles around her mouth, and crows feet at the corners of her eyes, but if she were talking to you, Tony had no doubt, you'd quickly come to her way of thinking unless you kept a level head.

"Hello," she said with no hint of hesitation in her voice. "I'm looking for a Mr. Tony Stark."

Tony had seen that same look before, the same almost-regal look of majesty about someone's being. He'd seen it on Thor.

"Hello, you must be Frigga." Tony said, shaking her hand as though it might bite him at any moment. "I'm Tony Stark."

"Ah," she exclaimed, distaste flickering in her eyes as she looked Tony up and down. _It can't be genetic, _Tony thought.He'd seen _that _same look on Loki. "Hello, Mr. Stark."

"It's ever so good to meet you." Tony gave a slight mocking bowl to accompany it. He had a feeling that you'd see her with a stuffed fox draped around her neck in the winter.

"Likewise."

Bruce looked between the two of them, either relief or disappointment flaring through his mind as he watched the two. "Um, hello." He said after a moment's silence which he felt was sufficient time to enter into the conversation. "My name's Bruce."

When Frigga turned to Bruce, the brightest smile possible burst into life. "Mr. Banner?" Frigga asked, "I hadn't expected to see you here."

"You didn't?" Bruce asked, a little confused.

"No, but I suppose it does make sense. Thor always says so much about you."

"Thor tells you...?" He began, looking over to Tony for help. "Oh! Right, I'm so sorry." He said, shaking her hand. "You must be his mother."

"Correct." She said cheerfully.

"Oh good." Said Tony just to get a word back into the conversation. "Otherwise that could have been awkward."

"Yes, thank you Tony." Bruce said very quietly. In the silence that followed, Bruce racked his brain for small talk. "Why didn't you expect to see me here?"

"Oh, from the way Thor described it, I had the distinct impression you were a physicist."

"Well," Bruce said, buffing his shoe against the carpet, "I'd like to be someday. But right now, I'm just studying for to be."

"Where at?" Frigga asked, clearly interested.

"Culver University." Bruce said proudly.

"Oh, do you know Jane Foster then?" Frigga asked.

"Yes. Actually, I introduced Thor to her. She's my professor."

"Really?" She asked with enthusiasm. "I never knew that. Thor never tells us anything about her. He won't even bring her home, like he's embarrassed of us or something."

Frigga and Bruce shared a laugh at that. "Well, that does sound like Thor. He's surprisingly shy when it comes to friends."

"Yes, now that you mention-"

Noticing that Frigga had just cast another dirty look his way, Tony felt the urge to intervene. "Ok, not that this isn't interesting, but the problem here is that all of this chatting distracts from me, and seeing as you asked for me, that's not just my narcissism talking." Although that was a huge factor.

"Hmm." Frigga gave Bruce one last optimistic look before turning her attention completely to Tony. "Unfortunately, you're right, Mr. Stark. I did come here for you."

"Unfortunately?" Tony asked, his jaw hanging open in mock offense. "Please, I'm a god send."

"Well, mine certainly didn't send you." Frigga growled.

"Ouch." Tony mouthed to Bruce, who'd covered his eyes as if it would allow him to escape his friend. He turned back to Frigga and asked, "so, why did you want me?"

Frigga pursed her lips. "Mr. Stark, we need to talk."

Tony just shrugged. "Here's fine."

Frigga turned to Bruce, the faintest trace of sadness bared in her eyes. "Isn't there anywhere quieter we could go to?"

Tony crossed his arms over his chest. "Anything you have to say to me you can say in front of Bruce."

"Very well." Frigga began, her voice dripping with venom. "Tony Stark, I accuse you of being a lying degenerate who is manipulating my son's affections towards you to turn him against his brother!"

In a strangely hushed, repressed tone, Tony exclaimed. "The back room should be fine."

"Thankyou, Mr. Stark." Said Frigga, striding towards the back room.

"She's a bit presumptuous, isn't she?" Tony asked Bruce.

"It's the only door here that doesn't lead outside. I'd guess that it'd be the back room." Bruce explain wearily.

"I meant the "lying degenerate" crap." Tony exclaimed glaring at Bruce. He'd been sure he'd get it.

"No, that seems pretty accurate to me." Said Bruce, a small smile upturning the corners of his lips. Before Tony could respond he pushed him after her. "You'd better hurry up before she things your fickle as well."

Tony snarled as he stumbled ahead. "This isn't over."

As horrible as it had been, he wished he was back with his phone working up the courage to talk to Pepper. At least there he wasn't sure about the treatment he'd get from her, still wasn't really. But meeting with Frigga, well, he knew that wasn't going to end well. He could see it in... what she already said about him... It was kind of like talking to Pepper's mother, except...

Tony stopped dead in his tracks as before he passed through the door frame.

"Is something the matter?" Frigga asked uncertainly.

"Uh," Tony began, his voice trembling a little. "Thor hasn't contracted something has he?"

Frigga looked at Tony like he was a madman. "Not to my knowledge..."

"Is it Loki then? Please tell me I didn't sleep with Loki..."

Frigga turned bright red and sharply said. "I think you'd know more about than I would."

Tony looked vaguely towards the ceiling, his jaw sitting slightly open. "I don't think I slept with either of them. And I'm fairly certain I don't have any STDs anymore..."

"This is not about any sexual exploits which you may or may not have had with my sons." Frigga never once raised her voice, yet the anger she voiced seemed much more fiery than the ice-like one would have expected. "This is about the lies you have been feeding Thor about his brother!"

"Lies?" Tony asked. Finding his body capable once more of locomotion, he walked wholly into his former prison, slamming the door shut behind him. "I've been feeding him lies?"

"Don't play games with me, Mr. Stark." Frigga looked around for some place to sit down, but settled for standing as close to the door as possible, possibly to intimidate Tony, although he failed to notice.

"Please, call me Tony. This isn't _Pride and Prejudice_." A comic Tony had absolutely refused to stock.

Frigga bit her lip, looking to Tony like she was struggling to control her anger. Tony ignored this and decided to sit crossed legged on the table. She started to talk again upon seeing that. "It's called manners, _Tony._ Something, I'm afraid to see, you don't have."

"My rudeness frightens you? Don't worry, it won't bite."

Frigga was seething, Tony was fairly certain she'd shoot him if she'd had a gun in her hand. "I see now why Loki has such distaste for you."

"Distaste? Please, he fucking hates me."

Tony could practically hear her teeth grinding. "Could we please avoid swearing."

"Not. Fucking. Likely."

Just when Tony was sure she was going to storm out, she seemed to calm down, taking several deep breathes. "Fine." She unclenched her fists and tried to put on a warm smile. "It's not important anyway."

"No it isn't." Tony said with the faintest hint of humour. "But it is fucking funny."

She ignored him. "Basically, _Mr. Stark_, I'm here to say one thing-"

"To stop feeding lies to Thor about Loki's involvement in the issue of our store potentially closing down." Tony interrupted, twirling his phone between his fingers fighting the urge to see if any messages had arrived. "Which, by the way, I am not doing."

"Please don't lie to me, Mr. Stark." Her tone was ever so slightly condescending. "I'm the wife of Odin, you're an amateur."

"No, I'm right and you're excessively paranoid." Tony said, his tone decidingly not _slightly _condescending. "Or, Loki has you wrapped around his little finger, in which case, Thor's the only one in your family with half a clue."

Frigga smiled. "Actually, they've made up. Loki told him the truth and, although he didn't believe him at first," she cast Tony the filthiest glare, "Thor soon realised who the liar was. They hugged, shook hand, everything. It's all alright between them now."

"If they shook hands,then, not so. Loki may think no one knows that his hands sweat when he lies, but we all kind of do. Thanks to Thor, actually. Before then I just thought the man disgusting. Besides, all of this misses the obvious question known as, what do I have to gain from lying to Thor."

"I don't know." Her voice lost all warmth. "Because you are a bitter man completely devoid of love and happiness in his life. One whom is only content when he is inflicting misery on others."

_She must have taught Loki everything she knows. _"Aren't we just describing Loki."

"You deserve a eternity of torture, Mr. Stark."

"I think... we're still talking about Loki." The jingle of the store's bells could be faintly heard by Tony, but he made nothing of it.

"How do you sleep at night?" She hissed.

"I normally don't, I wait until morning for that-"

The door roared open with such force that Frigga had to jump a few feet away to avoid being crushed. "Tony!" Roared Thor, standing in the door way, "I need to tell you abo-"

"Thor!" Growled Frigga as she glared at her son.

"Mother..." Said Thor, mumbling, "I..."

_Well that just got awkward, _thought Tony.

**Well, I finally worked up the courage to edit it. This has been sitting on my computer for five days now and I just worked on the next chapter instead. Hmm, oh well. That should be up soonish. **

**I actually have a schedule for the second half of this fic now. It'll probably get to about 45000 words long and will probably have a time skip in the next few chapters. An ending is coming, which is amazing, I normally never finish anything. But, dammit, I think I can finish this one.**

**As ever, reviews are love. Especially critical ones.**


	9. An update? Apparently

**A note:**

** this takes place at the same time as 'Tony, a Knight of a Cerberus'. As much as I want to continue on with that plot, I need to get this out of the way before that can happen. Then we can have chapter 10, and then the fiendishly long chapter 11 which will have SO MANY PLOTS! I'm tired, and babbling, sorry.**

* * *

Natasha arrived at the café five minutes ahead of time, ordered a small latte, and chose to sit herself at a table near the back of the café. She sat under in the shade of a small palm tree from the little garden owned by the café's neighbors. She vaguely wondered if the neighbors were ever annoyed with the customers, who had a tendency to have passionate, but pointless, conversations very loudly next door. She decided it really didn't matter and tried to pass the time while waiting for Loki.

Although the palm tree shaded her, the wind would blow its shade away so she'd be stormed with the heat of the sun, which warmed her more than she'd liked. That probably was for the best; the wind wasn't exactly cold but it did possess a little bit of chill, just enough for her to be annoyed with both conditions. However, it was quite relaxing, and while she promised herself that she would just close her eyes for a moment, she dozed off when she tried. When she opened her eyes again she found that her coffee had arrived while she had been napping. She groaned a little and pulled herself into a more uncomfortable position.

Her watch started beeping to signal Loki's arrival. Well, she'd set an alarm for when he was meant to be there, but Loki was rarely anything but punctual so it had the same basic function for planned events.

And sure enough, Loki appeared off in the distance eagerly scanning the crowded café for her, a green scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. After a moment, their eyes met and, despite her reservations, they exchanged a smile. He was at her table within seconds.

"Hello, Natasha," he said. There was something about him which Natasha found vaguely disturbing, something which she couldn't quite put her finger on. He seemed just slightly out of place there, like he was floating above it somehow. It might have had something to do with him standing at a slightly askew angle, as if reality were forcing him into a position he didn't feel quite comfortable with.

"Loki." She nodded, disguising her discomfort as best she could (which was extremely well). Feeling the tension in the air, and worried it was going to give her away, she chuckled. "You are allowed to sit down, you know."

A smile fluttered onto Loki's face. "Of course," he said. He pulled the chair out as if it greatest honour in the world. "I just wouldn't want to be rude now, would I?" He unbuttoned his blazer and sat opposite her.

"Because rude is the last thing Loki Asgard would want to be." Natasha jabbed.

He seemed to miss the insult. "Quite right." He said, as he picked up the menu.

Natasha took a sip of her latte and watched Loki's eyes scan the small laminated sheet. If you knew someone well enough you could read them like a book, the subtle crook of their arm becoming as clear as the letter 'y'. And just like 'y', there were quite a few letters that were used more frequently than what Loki's looked to be feeling.

Despite his unorthodox appearance, Loki seemed happy.

"How about the eggs Benedict?" He asked, his eye flashing with hunger. No, he seemed ravenous, as though he hadn't eaten in months. He looked it too with his gaunt, alien face; Greece had evidently not been kind to him. "Do you think it'd be good?"

"Hmm." She mumbled her mind coming off its tracks. "What?"

Loki had a little chuckle. "Do you think the eggs Benedict would be good?" After a moment of blank eyed staring from Natasha, he added. "You know, to eat?"

"Oh, right. Yes, sorry." She said, shaking her head.

Loki looked her up and down. "You ok?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Natasha asked, taking another sip of her latte.

"I don't know, you just don't seem... Yourself."

For anyone who was interested in watching the two talk, they'd quickly gain the impression that they were waiting for a third, better acquainted friend. The reasons for this were many but mainly boiled down to this; neither were particularly good at speaking their mind.

"It's nothing." Natasha replied. She gulped down the rest of her latte in a few seconds, wiping away the foam from her lip with a napkin. She needed to stay sharp. "I'm just tired."

"Why is that?"

"It's kind of private." She didn't think anything else needed to be said. She'd only managed a few hours sleep last night and most of that had been rather energetic. She supposed she was losing touch with her former self. She used to be able to stay up all night, running as fast as she could to escape from bad situations, and still be completely comfortable the next day. She'd once gone eighty waking hours on three hours of rest (although she had mild hallucinations by the end of it). These days, however, she didn't feel right unless she had the full six hours sleep. She would have sighed if Loki hadn't been there; she definitely felt that distancing herself from those days was a good thing. Her life was definitely better.

"Ah." Said Loki, a cheeky grin accompany the red blush. "Well, I don't want to pry."

"How about you?" She asked.

"Oh, believe me, I'm excellent." His smile wasn't prideful and, as far as she could tell, completely genuine. She supposed it might have been the way Loki averted his eyes, he never did that when he was lying.

"And why is that?" She asked, thinking back to the store. Had something happened to help him?

"Well," Said Loki, his smile becoming ever so slightly prideful. "It turns out I underestimated my brother."

"How so?"

Loki grinned; an almost predatory smirk. The kind of grin you'd see from a movie villain when their enemy had fallen right into their hands. However, he didn't take the bait. He picked up the menu and scanned through it once more. "The Eggs Benedict looks like it has too many calories, though. Should I just get a pastry?"

Natasha nodded. "Private discussion then?"

"You wouldn't be wrong." Loki placed the menu down once more and called to the waiter who hurried over.

"May I get you something?" He asked, with an air of happiness that didn't seem entirely artificial.

"Yes please; may I please get a cappuccino and a croissant, if that's ok?"

Natasha was beginning to feel nervous with how eerily polite and calm Loki sounded. She just couldn't quite figure out why. "You're a real big eater, I see." She said when the waiter had scurried off.

"Don't be sarcastic; it doesn't look good on you." Replied Loki who continued by rubbing his hands together. "I do hope that order comes quickly. I'm starving."

"I'm sure it will take a _very_ long time." Natasha began fidgeting in her seat, trying to find some way to sit comfortably.

Loki smiled at her. "See what I mean?"

"Not in the least."

"Hmm," said Loki, as if she'd just given him some incredibly important piece of information. Natasha inwardly grimaced, that wasn't exactly how she wanted to present herself. "So, how have you been?" His tone was formal and inviting, but it seemed off; colder.

"Well enough," she replied, staring him down. "You know, besides the threats to my job security."

"Oh, gods, whatever happened?" Loki rested his chin on his hands. "Have they been trying to revoke your citizenship?"

Natasha's eyes widened. "Loki, you do remember what you're doing to my shop, right?" She asked with a slightly condescending air. She hoped to insult him a little more than was entirely necessary. "How you intend to shut it down."

"Of course, but I hardly see how that's going to affect your job security."

"Right, because not having a job in no way affects my job security."

Loki rolled his eyes and patiently sighed. "Do you really think that I'd be doing away with that shop if I didn't think you'd be able to cope with it?"

"Honestly?" Natasha asked. She took a sip of her latte, which was now nothing but foam, to postpone saying something as long as possible. Oddly, thinking it was much harder than saying it. "Yes."

"Well, that's harsh." He said after a moment's silence.

"Loki, I don't exactly have a clean past; my criminal record is literally a mile long. Do you really think many employers are going to be jumping at the possibility of hiring me?"

"You don't think I would have considered that?" He asked, sounding wounded.

"Well, you don't seem to think about anyone else anymore."

"Well, fine. You're right, there's not many." He responded, sounding a little angry. He looked like he was going to apologize to the waiter for the electricity in the air as his food was delivered. "But there are some. Like me."

"What?" Natasha asked, genuinely surprised.

"I was going to hire you, if you wanted." Loki said as he cut up his croissant. "Only if you wanted, of course. If you and Clint wanted to go to Los Angeles and become Private Investigators or something, don't stay here on my account."

Natasha couldn't help but eye him suspiciously for a moment. "You're serious."

"Of course."

"You genuinely just want to open up a café? This hasn't got anything to do with revenge?"

Loki smile suddenly went toxic. "Well, not on you. On Thor, yes. On Odin, yes. On my mother," he tsked. "I'd be lying if I said no." Loki looked her in the eye and suddenly averted his gaze, like a shy teenager talking to his crush. "But not on you. Never on you."

Natasha snarked. "It's easier to just say you what revenge on me. I wouldn't weep over that, I've heard worse."

"You wouldn't weep?"

She returned his twisted lip in kind. "I'm a big girl."

He chuckled. "Nonetheless, if you are concerned over your job security, or even if you're not, I will offer you this job. Just a waitressing position, nothing too great, but the pay is better than what you're currently getting. So there's that." He gave a little sympathetic nod. "Plus my clientele are less likely to sneer at you because of your sex."

Natasha bit her lip and averted her eyes. "Well that's all very tempting, but," she managed to hold his eye for a moment longer, "I really want to know why revenge against your brother has to happen. And why it has to affect all of my friends."

"Acceptable losses." He muttered.

_Well that's more than slightly tyrannical, _Natasha thought. "They have no quarrel with you."

In the creepiest monotone she had ever heard, Loki replied. "An ant has no quarrel with a boot." He looked down at his food, holding both bits of cutlery tightly in his hands. "Please try to understand, I have no quarrel with you. Or your friends, despite the claims Stark would make."

Knowing that Loki was not a fan of bad etiquette, Natasha placed her elbows as intrusively as possible onto the table and rested her chin on her knuckles "So this is just some roaring rampage of revenge then?"

"This is about my brother," Loki sneered. "And about what it's always been about." Natasha felt sure she saw tears welling in his eyes. "Love."

"Love?" Natasha asked, a little surprised. "Please tell me you're fighting over the same lover because otherwise this just got a bit too weird fo-"

Loki interrupted her with quick flick of his wrist. "Perhaps I should have made myself clearer. It's more precisely about _lack_ of love. And the way members of _my family_ have been treating me."

Natasha could hardly fail to notice the venom dripping from the word 'family'. "Loki, Thor loves you more than anyone else I know."

At the mention of his name, Loki eyed her suspiciously. "My brother's love for me... yes, it's better than I could have hoped for..."

"So what, you're getting revenge on Thor because he loves you too much?"

"Are you even listening to what I'm saying?" Although his eyes were oddly expressionless, his tone of voice suggested he was becoming very angry. "It's about Odin."

"What about him?" She asked.

Loki went to respond but instead smashed his mouth shut. He twisted his neck and Natasha could easily see veins bulging through his skin, throbbing violently among a tapestry of exposed bone. Through clenched teeth, he responded in a hiss. "He has never, ever loved me like a son. He's always seen me as a leech, some parasite from his enemies to suck the life out of him while he was cursed to pretend to love me!"

"Everything Thor's ever told me about your father-"

"Oh, my father! My father! You want to know something about my father!" Spittle rained down as Loki seemed to bite the air. "He wasn't some great and noble business man. You see, both of my families have some connection to the mob, although my father's ran deeper than Odin's. And through some terrible events the two families came to resent each other, rather a lot. But Odin, the ever perfect patriarch he is, managed to, through legal means, I might add, get my father convicted and his whole family thrown in jail for life.

"And seeing me, he finally found the weapon that'd make his victory complete. Because what use is just winning when you can destroy a man. And so, by calling in some of his connections, he managed to adopt me. To make me his little pet." He growled and slammed his fist against the table. "But he never loved me. He could never see me as his flesh and blood."

"Who told you this?" She asked sternly, her eyes wide with worry.

"Someone far wiser than Odin."

"Quietly, she asked. "Loki, please. Tell me."

"I'm afraid I can't-"

She cut him off. "I'm trying to help you."

"Oh, don't be like that. You're trying to help yourself, that's all any of us do!" He said, seething. He looked rabid, like every bit of emotion he'd ever repressed was bubbling to the surface at once. "We all just try and help ourselves. Even our kindest acts of generosity are purely for our own self-interest. So our friends will be nicer to us, so our lovers won't be so angry with us. You're all pathetic!"

"You're?" She asked, warily. She was beginning to think Bruce was right. Loki's mind was a bag of cats. "But not you?"

"Oh no." Loki said with a smile. "He set me free. Free from the lies we tell ourselves to make us feel better. Now, I do as I wish. Because I know none of you really care for me. And I don't really care about any of you." He chuckled. "Well, not your well-being anyway."

"And to think," she began slowly. "You use to be my friend."

"There's no such thing as friendship, Natasha!" His gaze wandered ever so slightly. "But, I don't hate you. Not truly. Not how I detest my brother. For the crime of getting everything I never had, for getting the love I could never have, I intend to destroy everything he loves."

Natasha bit her lip and growled. "Don't do this."

"Or what?" He asked, with a laugh. "You'll get your boyfriend to stop me. Well, too bad, Natasha. You're a damsel in distress without your knight in shining armour. Oh, please, tell me I'm wrong. Lash out at me and tell me how you plan to stop my schemes, how you're going to defeat because the good guys always win."

Tears began to well up in her eyes.

He slammed his fists down onto the table and leant in extremely close to her, his teeth barred like a vicious animal. "Because, then you will see how everything goes up in smoke, how frail your relationship with _him_ is. Because Officer Barton will have to do exactly as I say when this all falls to pieces, and then you will see how little people really love you!"

She turned away, her face in her hands, and began to sob. "We're not like that."

"No?" He asked, barely suppressing a giggle. "Then go along with the winds of fate. Because no matter how much he seems like a good leader, he's just another drunk and you will soon see how dangerous it can be to follow a man like that!"

Natasha looked up and immediately dried her tears. Her voice was perfectly even when she questioned him. "You left a paper trail for him, didn't you?"

"What?" Loki asked, confused.

"He thought you were impossibly stupid for that. But I guess that was all part of your plan." Natasha pulled a few dollars out of her wallet and dumped them on the table. "Thank you for the hint." She went to walk away but then stopped. "And for your information, love is stronger than that. Maybe if you actually cared for someone else you'd understand what that's like."

Then, never looking back, Natasha Romanov walked out of the cafe, her determination to stop him increasing with each step. If he wasn't going to see reason, Natasha was going to have to stop him her own way.

Loki sat there in silence for several minutes simply too startled to react to this new development. "What just happened?" He eventually asked to no one in particular.

* * *

**An update? Apparently.**

**I'm not sure I'm satisfied with the results, ok I'm not, but if I didn't post this tonight it would have been another week before I'd gotten around to editing so I'd decided to do it now.**

**I've actually got another 13000 words of stuff written for the next two chapters, although I think the next one requires a lot of editing so don't expect it up for a couple more days. And since this is me, that's probably a week.**

**Look, I'm sorry for not updating. You probably don't care but I freaked out when I noticed inconsistencies and wanted to end this. Now I'm trying to finish it to prove I can actually finish something. It'll be flawed, of course, but I'm still learning so I guess that's acceptable.**

**Thank you for your patience. **

**And please, although I have no right to ask, review. Even critical reviews are good, they help me improve.**

**And now if you'll excuse me, I intend to go and get drunk.**


	10. Titles are hard

After the second shrill shriek erupted from the back room, Tony turned to Bruce and asked. "Do you think they'll out soon?"

Bruce looked blankly back at him.

"No," Tony agreed. "You're probably right?" Tony shuffled his feet and crossed his arms. This was taking far too long. Why did they have to fight here?

CRASH!

Tony was suddenly alert. "Did they just break something?" Breaking stuff in _his_ store!

"I think that was the light bulb." Bruce suggested to Tony. Bruce turned to the door, a light tinkling noise having alerted him to the possibility of customers. Before he could say anything, the young girl in the doorway went pale at the sound of Thor's roar. Immediately, she turned and fled. "Why do I get the feeling this was Loki's idea?"

"Because you give Loki too much credit." Said Tony, not really believing it. He stood rigid and stared down the door like a soldier waiting for the onrush of enemy troops. "I should go in there."

"Why?"

"They're going to wreck the merchandise, that's why!" He also wanted to kill both of them for kicking him out of his own storeroom. _His_ storeroom! Not there's! Unfortunately, Tony had a sneaking suspicious that Frigga was equally likely to turn the tables on him as her son. And since Thor wasn't exactly a preschooler…

Bruce looked ready to reply, but closed his mouth before he could say anything.

"What is it?" Tony asked, surprising even himself by showing interest in Bruce's opinion.

"It's just," Bruce turned around and checked the front door. Despite how oddly cool he seemed, Tony thought the kid looked a little paranoid. "Why are they even arguing? What did Thor do exactly?"

Tony racked his brains, trying to remember the exact details of the exchange he'd seen. "I don't know. He just barged in saying he wanted to talk to me about something. And then she yelled at him, and then he looked terrified, and then she threw me out on my ass. It hurt."

"Anything else?" Bruce asked. He flinched as something shattered against the wall.

"Not sure." Tony replied, distractedly. He was curious to know what just happened in there. As far as he could remember, there wasn't anything in the room capable of producing that kind of noise. Like a dinner plate falling onto tiles. "Maybe she banned him."

"From here?"

Tony shrugged. "I guess."

"Would Thor obey her on that?"

Thor yelled something that sounded suspiciously like 'hunt' followed by a sudden, hushed silence. Then there was more yelling.

"Apparently not."

"It would explain why she's acting like this though."

"But these are Asgardians we're talking about. Hell, she could just be mad because Thor drank the last of the milk." Tony looked down at his feet, the joke tasting bitter on his tongue. "He did seem desperate to tell me something, though."

"Tell me about it." Bruce sighed, headed over to the counter, pulled out the shop's small, pinkish duster, and began to wipe the bench. "He didn't even say hi. He just asked me where you were. He's normally so-" He grasped for the appropriate word. "Well, not calm. But less _that_."

Tony stared in shock at Bruce, trying to ignore the screams of the Asgardians. "What are you doing?"

"Dusting?"

"Why?"

"Well, it's part of my job." Bruce explained, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "You know, you have to keep a clean and orderly shop."

"That wasn't in the job description." Tony exclaimed. He looked almost disgusted by the prospect.

"It was the first line, Tony."

That came as even more of a surprise to him. "I wrote that? That doesn't sound like something I'd do."

"If it makes you feel any better," Bruce wiped a light coating of dust from the top of some shelves. "The next line said that it was so you didn't have to do it."

"Wow." Tony was almost speechless. "That might explain why Natasha always got in and did it."

"Why did you think she did it?"

"I don't know. Because she liked it?"

Bruce stared blankly at him. "Why would anyone want to clean up after you?"

Tony cast his mind back to the small landscape of garbage down in his basement. _It's funny how that only began after Pepper left. _"I assumed some people did. Why else would Pepper have cleaned my house?"

"Just a thought, but maybe it was because she was tired of the mess you made."

"Oh..." That also explained some things_._ "Well, you still don't need to do it."

"Then who else will do it?" Bruce asked, a little frustrated.

"Natasha? Thor, maybe."

_SMASH! _"Thor doesn't clean things; Thor breaks things! And as for Natasha; yeah, she probably would." He slowed his voice right down as though he were talking to a small child. "But, sometimes it's nice to do things for other people; especially when they hate doing it!"

Tony pointed an accusatory finger at his employee. "How do you know she hates it?"

"Because everyone hates it!" Exclaimed Bruce.

_Ok, calm down. _Tony thought, noticing the vein throbbing on Bruce's forehead. _No need to act like that's a foreign concept to me. _"Some people might."

"Well, I can guarantee Natasha isn't one of them." Bruce went back to dusting.

"Then why does _she_ do it?"

Bruce hit his head against the shelf. "Don't you do anything that you don't want to?"

"Not really."

"Exercising? Handling customers? Taxes?"

"You have to do taxes?" Tony asked. He wasn't entirely certain Bruce believed him, but he found the joke too tempting to pass up. Tony knew he had to fill out taxes, he just never did.

Bruce paused for a moment before asking. "How are you and Steve best friends?"

"Because I don't have to teach him how to have sex."

Bruce just sighed and went back to work.

"I make it a rule to never have sex with virgins. It's always really awkward."

"Oh, I understand that feeling!" Bruce grumbled.

"Do you?"

The door swung open (which they probably should have anticipated because of the lull in noise, Tony thought). Frigga stomped out first, something which even Tony found impressive given the height of her heels. Her eyes, blue as crystal, flared with hate at the sight of Tony. Thor came skittishly along behind her like a guilty puppy.

"Mr. Stark."

Quite unlike his former self, Bruce hid himself underneath some shelves and began dusting furiously. Lucky for him, no one had ever dusted under there before, so it wasn't entirely a feint.

"Bitch queen."

Frigga ground her teeth and continued. "I had hoped to come here and find some common ground between us, but it's clear that we do not have any. And for that I'm sorry. Hopefully I will be able to keep my sons together even with the damage you are causing-"

Thor interrupted her. "Mother, he is in innocent of what you suggest-"

"Silence, Thor!" To Tony, she said. "See what you have done. See how far you've ruptured the bonds between my sons."

"Not really, but continue." Tony had his hands behind in his back to hide the fact that he was twiddling his thumbs. Although there was still plenty of humour to be had in this situation, he was beginning to get bored. Plus, he needed the customers to not feel threatened by seven foot blonde people.

She gestured to Thor. "While my son is here, please just tell him you're lying. Tell him that Loki had nothing to do with this."

"I am many things but a liar is not one of them." _Bruce, please do not laugh at that._

Frigga waited for him to continue but when he didn't she growled. "Fine!" It was the kind of sound you'd expect to hear from a cornered wolf. "If you won't be a good person, I suppose I'll have to find some other way to make Thor see reason." She turned to her son and said, "I suppose you're going to stay here then."

"Yes, mother." Thor eyes were fixed on the floor. Tony wondered what he'd said to her back there.

"Right." And with that final word, spoken with neither hate nor love, she left.

"Hope to see you again." Tony said with a bright smile.

Bruce glared at him like he had suggested they drown puppies. "What is your problem?"

"I'm narcissistic genius; I'm not sure that's a problem though."

Thor cut the exchange short. "Tony, we need to talk about Loki."

Tony turned around looking wounded. "You couldn't have just said that straight away. It would have made this situation a lot less awkward. Plus, you wouldn't have broken nearly as much crap." Tony's eyes suddenly went wide at the memory. "By the way, what did you break?"

"Tony, that argument was always going to come." Thor addressed the ground. "Better now than later."

"But why in my shop?" Tony asked, grumpily. "There's a whole world out there that's not my shop; couldn't you have done it somewhere out there?"

"Tony!" Bruce barked.

Tony shot Bruce a piercing stare. After a moment, he threw his hands up into the air. "Fine! What do I care if I need to pay for broken inventory? It's not like any of that matters." He rubbed his hands furiously through his hair as he turned to Thor. "What did you want to tell me about Mr. Adopted?"

Thor fixed a pointed finger at Tony. "I don't think he is doing this to hurt you."

"So, Loki wants to close down our store because he really wants a café here?" Bruce asked, a little confused.

"No, because it'll turn me against him." Thor said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"That doesn't make any sense." Said Bruce, pacing the store. "Why would he want to turn you against him? That'd just bring hell down upon him, especially if your parents found out. Which, I suppose, they kind of did..." He shook his head. "No, that can't be it."

"Rest assured, Banner. It is."

"I'm actually going to have to agree with Blondie on this one." Said Tony. He lent up against the counter, flicking through the pages of an X-men comic. "If that's how his mother reacts to the idea that I'm turning Thor and Loki against each other, imagine how she'd react to Thor turning against him without any justification. It'd hell be hell for Thor and Christmas for him."

"It's far worse than that, I fear." Said Thor.

"He doesn't just want to turn you two against each other?" Bruce asked, warily.

"No," Thor hesitated, as if the thought was choking him. "He wants to tear my family apart."

There was a moment when no one spoke, where Bruce seemed horrified and even Tony couldn't manage a quip. "Why would he do that?" Bruce finally asked.

"I'm not sure yet," Thor began pacing around the store. "But I swear on Asgard; on the gods and on my father, and his father's before him, I will find out."

"Well, that's great, Beowulf." Tony pulled himself erect and let the comic fall to the counter with a soft _pwhop. _"I feel glad to know that when I'm homeless and out of work, you'll still be trying to figure out why he suddenly hates everyone."

Thor glared at him and in a voice like a distant storm growled. "Stark, do not anger me."

"No," Bruce began, shaking slightly. "Tony's right." Tony gestured towards Bruce and beamed. "We don't just need to give Loki some psychoanalysis."

"Then what would you propose I do, Banner?" Thor directed with a glare.

"I don't know yet, but we should be able to come up with somethi-"

"Then you do your plan, Banner, and I will do mine." Thor move to leave the store was stopped by the startlingly fast appearance of Tony.

His hands hovered just before Thor's biceps, something he was uncomfortably aware of. "Hold on there, linebacker, you can't just go off half-baked on this."

"Oh," Thor growled, bending his head down so his eyes were level with Tony's. "And why not?"

"Because, and I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but Loki is smarter than me. Smarter than Bruce. And he's definitely smarter than you, Thor. Plus, he's planned this and he knows us, he probably knows how we'd react, and he'd certainly know that you'd find out. He probably planned for it as well."

"Then how do we stop him?"

"We, and I also never thought I'd say this," he looked between the two of them in hope that he wouldn't have to say it. When no one spoke up, he held his hands behind his back, looked to the floor and mumbled. "We team up."

"What?" Thor asked, his hand cupped to his ear.

He glared at his co-workers. "I'm not smart enough to beat the guy, ok. We're going to have to work together."

"Isn't that what we were doing with those meetings?" Bruce asked.

"No, that's what happens when you leave me alone with a lot of alcohol and a computer. You don't have any input." With one dismissive hand gesture, Tony silences Bruce before he can reply. "Believe me; I was never going to listen to what you said."

"Your plan," Thor asked slowly, sounding completely astonished. "Is to make more plans?"

"No, it's better than that." He gave them both a mischievous grin. "We need to come up with a good plan."

At that moment, with the force of a small car, Natasha slammed the shop door open into a shelf of precariously stacked comics. This worked out in her advantage, as the action of comics being ruined between the door and the wall managed to stop the glass from breaking. However, the door still rattled angrily on its hinges as Natasha screamed. "Don't listen to Tony's plan!"

When her vision finally registered the shocked looks of her friends, she felt that maybe she'd gone a little bit overboard with the entrance. She looked across at the mangled comics sliding down beside the door and let out a small "ah". She gestured to the damage and flushed, her cheeks temporarily becoming as red as her hair. "I'll pay for that."

"What was that for?" Tony asked, for one miraculous moment understanding Steve's constant judging and weary stares.

"You can't do what Tony's planning!" She ordered, her authority snapping back in an instant.

Tony spun on the balls of his feet, taking stock of the expressions of each of their faces. With a dawning smile, he said "It looks like it's back to narcissism for me."

Natasha just stared in shock for a moment. "Huh?" Seeing the look on her face, Bruce rolled his eyes and explained Tony's teamwork idea to her. Afterwards, she was practically speechless. "Oh." She looked at Tony, feeling genuinely impressed. "I was expecting something a little different to that, actually."

Tony swung around to face Bruce. "Someone's finally glad I'm being nice."

"Why, did you expect something bad?" Thor asked, warily. Thoughts of scheming brothers were flashing in his mind.

"More importantly, why did you break half of the stock to tell us?" Tony asked, suddenly outraged.

Natasha sighed. "I was with Loki-"

Three questions were pointed back at her:

Thor asked, angrily: "Why were you with Loki?"

Bruce crossed his arms and rubbed his eyes: "You're going to trust that bag of cats?"

"Is this what people feel like when I blow up their stuff?" It should probably be noted that Tony's question didn't really point back at her; rather it meandered around like a fly trying to escape a windowed room.

Natasha just stared. "Let's try that again, one at a time. Bruce?"

He stuttered. "Oh... you know it wasn't really important. I was just trying to be the snarky for once."

"Bit of a bad time." She turned to Tony. "And you asked?"

Tony furrowed his brow and concentrated for a while. He shook his head. "I don't remember. I could ask something else if it's important."

"No, I don't think that's necessary. Ok, Thor-"

"Why were you with my brother?" He roared out of nowhere. A few pedestrians rushed past the shop at the sound.

Natasha didn't even flinch. "I was trying to reason with him. To try and get him to remember the old times we shared."

"If I couldn't reach him with the memories of our childhood, what hope would you have?" Thor asked. His fists were clenched into tight balls and he looked ready to tear her limb from limb.

"Calm down, man." Tony rushed over to his side. "There's nothing to get jealous over."

"Oh, I beg to differ." Thor growled. His attention never wavered from Natasha. "I've known Loki his entire life. I've shared everything with him. I've played and drank and fought with him ever since we were children. You were his friend for a few measly years and you dare think you can get him to change his mind?"

"Well, I tried, but considering my entrance, I think you can safely assume I didn't succeed. So, if we'd move along to the po-"

Thor swung so fast that no one registered it. Natasha was on the floor by the time Tony managed to claw his eyes away from Thor's fusts. But, it involved dropping to the floor rather than because she was struck by his fist. Quick as a snake, she lunged her right leg out to slip Thor's own out from under him. She plowed up into his chest as he stumbled, hurled him down onto his back, rolled him onto his chest, and held his arm to his back in a lock. "Listen to me, Thor. I couldn't get through to him. In fact, he's gone off the deep end. He keeps talking like he's some sort of comic book villain without remorse. Like he's got some big scheme that will ruin us all. I couldn't reach him and if you couldn't either, he's probably gone. But I did manage to trick him into telling me something."

She let go of his arm and watched the seven foot mass of muscle clamber sheepishly to his knees. He would not look her in the eye. "Into telling me what he's planned for."

"Great," Tony said, slightly in awe of the attack she'd just delivered to Thor. "Why didn't you just do _that _to him?"

Natasha ignored him and directed her answer to Thor. "He wants us to follow Tony's plan. He's expecting it. Although, I'm not entirely sure what one he meant."

"You think he expects us to give Tony control?" Thor shook out his muscles and spent a moment stretching.

"I don't think he expected Tony to be fair when it comes to team work." She explained. Tony just shrugged.

"Then do we stick to the make a plan plan?" Bruce asked, raising his voice a little.

"In a way..." She said. She walked around the counter and pulled a wad of paper and pens. "Tony, what way would you go about stopping Loki from winning?"

"Well, if it were up to me." He placed a few of his hand on his heart and smiled. "Which it normally would be," Bruce groaned. "I would probably hack into Loki's email account and see if he sent Fury any deals. We could probably get them both in court with something like that. Something about unfair dismissal."

"And where would you do this?" She asked, already knowing the answer.

"I'd break into his house and sort through his emails."

"Are you sure that'd work?" Thor asked, as he walked towards Tony. He kept a wide berth from Natasha.

"I think so, but if that's part of Loki's plan then he's probably got safe guards. And he's got money. I'm not sure I'd be able to hack his account."

Bruce rubbed his temples. "Guessing his password isn't hacking his account."

Tony placed one finger to his lips. "It makes me sound smarter."

"Are you sure that's what you were going to do?" Natasha asked desperately, completely fed up with the antics of the children she worked with. She guessed her mum was right; she had gone into childcare.

"I could check my vlog." Tony said, an insufferable smirk lighting his face up.

"Well, do it then." Natasha barked before taking a deep breath. Could she really subject Tony to this, after everything he'd done for her? Could she really do it to Clint? She sighed, and never noticed how tense her friends were to see her like this. "Are any of you opposed to obtaining a criminal record?"

"What?" Bruce asked loudly, somehow drowning out whatever Tony and Thor said. They barely had time to look shocked at his outburst before he plowed ahead. "You can't seriously be thinking of going through with that? After what we just discussed!"

"Bruce-"

"No, I can't believe you're thinking this? You of all people!" Bruce looked as if he'd just doubled in size. Perhaps it was because he was becoming the centre of attention instead of the wall flower, but they all swore that they could see the roiling of muscles beneath his baggy shirt. "You know how hard it is to get a job with a record. How long has it been Natasha? Five years? Five years since you've done anything illegal? Five years since you've been using? Since you've been dealing?"

Natasha let his words strike her. She deserved this. Bruce was right; she shouldn't have been asking this of them.

"Thor, do you really want to have your life tarnished like that? To have employers constantly shooting you down for what you once did?"

She spoke up. "Bruce, it's not like what I did. It's only a little thing-"

"A little thing!" He yelled. "This isn't skipping on paying a parking ticket or drunk driving." Tony shuffled and looked at his feet. "This is breaking and entering, not to mention identity theft. It's a lot more serious than you're kidding yourself!"

"Bruce," Tony growled. "Stop. None of us are going to be doing anything we don't want to."

"Oh, because we're not going up against a chess master or anything." Bruce shook violently, his arms suddenly pointed angrily at whoever he looked at. "Face it; if one of us does that he will be sure to take us all down."

"Loki won't win, Bruce." Natasha said. She was trying to be reassuring, but she was too tired. She just sounded empty. "I can't let him take this store. I haven't forgotten anything. I remember everything Tony did for me and I can't let him lose his dream like this! I refuse to let Loki take this store away from him."

"I'm not talking about Loki, Tasha!" Bruce roared. Thor was even vaguely certain he felt the ground shake. "I'm talking about you!"

"Bruce..." Tony warned, edging closer.

"No, Tony!" Bruce yelled, his face going red. "Haven't you seen her? Haven't you seen the way she plays us? The way she just sits there and plays us off each other!" He looked right at her, and ground his teeth together. "What do you think she's doing? Who do you think she's in league with?"

She stopped biting her lip and clenched her teeth together instead. Her eyes rose to meet his. "Bruce, don't go there!"

Bruce stomped towards her. "Why not? I know you, Tash. Thor might not want to hear it but he's wrong. Loki has never cared about anyone more than he's cared about you." He stopped mere centimeters away from Natasha. "You were best friend and you really expect me to believe that you had no input in this?"

"Yeah." She said. She didn't feel angry. She didn't feel hurt. She didn't need to hide anything. This was the closest she'd felt to coldness in years. "Yeah, in fact I did."

"How do we know we can trust you?" He asked, inches away from her. Natasha could see a vein bulging dangerously on his forehead and decided that if she were to say anything next she needed to tread carefully.

"Bruce, you've never been able to know that. And I know that you're scared, that you're frightened that the little home you've created over the last few years might be taken away from you, but please, don't be!" Bruce's posture slackened a little back. Natasha barrelled on ahead, although this time it was to everyone. "I know it might be tempting to go pointing fingers. To say that this person has to be the bad guy because the other one's untouchable, but we can't do this like that.

"We have to be united together or we're just letting Loki win. And I know we didn't all meet at the same time," she nodded at Thor. "And that some of us don't really know the rest of us anywhere near as well as we'd like to, but that can't be what drives us apart. We are united by friendships, by the fact that we all work at the same comic book shop that really can't afford to pay us all. And by the fact that we won't let that bastard win."

"And even if he does, we'll be united by never seeing each other again." Tony replied in a mockery of a pep talk.

Bruce waved a dismissive hand back at him. "Shut up, Tony."

Natasha smiled at him. "Thanks, Bruce. Let's make one thing clear. I don't want to lose this store. I don't want to lose the best friends I've ever had. I don't want Loki to have that fucking sly little grin of his face when he walks through these doors for the last time. And most importantly," she scanned the eyes of every one of her friends, "I have a plan."

Bruce took two long strides back. "I'm sorry, Natasha." He looked down at the ground and started twiddling his thumbs.

"That's ok, Bruce, we're all under a lot of stress."

Tony raised his hand into the air. "Am I allowed to know this plan?" He asked arrogantly.

Natasha smiled. "You can know it in a tick. First, you need to figure out what your plan would have been if you didn't have your power of friendship epiphany."

"Why is that important?" Tony asked.

"Because, Stark," Thor turned around to catch Tony's eye, his arms crossed in front of his broad chest. "We're going to need a distraction."

**I hate this. So much. I'm so sorry with how this turned out.**

**Please leave review. Especially if you can point out things that could make it better.**


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